


i found you amidst the waves

by Eisbaerfussel, TheDragon



Series: seas below [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Presumed Dead, Romance, Sailing, Shipwrecks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 37,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26177815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisbaerfussel/pseuds/Eisbaerfussel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: The day had started off normally enough. Merlin had spent the better part of it swimming around with his friends, hunting the poor fish that were to become his dinner, and listening to his mother berate him for his continued trips to the sea surface.As he stared up at the faces of the men who had captured him, Merlin realised that he should probably have listened to her.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: seas below [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003464
Comments: 76
Kudos: 317
Collections: After Camlann Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to sincerely thank my artist, [Eisbaerfussel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisbaerfussel/pseuds/Eisbaerfussel), as well as [Merlioske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske) for helping me get to the end of this fic ♥️
> 
> Seriously, the [art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26200405) is so good! I spent the better part of today gushing over how gorgeous it is!
> 
> I’m also proud to announce that I started this fic all the way back in 2016 and am incredibly happy to have finally finished it 😁

The hole in the net refused to get bigger.

It made no difference whether Merlin bit or clawed at it; the ropes wouldn’t give. The only thing he managed to accomplish was getting his hands entangled in them. As much as he could, Merlin turned around and whipped his tail from side to side in the hopes that it would get his attackers—the seas forsaken _humans_ —away from him.

It didn’t work, no matter how hard Merlin tried. Whenever he managed to fight off one human, there was another to take his place.

The water was red with Merlin’s blood, courtesy of the vile creature that had stabbed him with a harpoon. His tail felt as if it was on fire, and every twitch only served to exacerbate the pain. The water was too murky to see through; his continued movements only served to make it more so, with the added bonus of making his tail feel as though it was burning.

Merlin stopped for a split second to catch his breath and chase away the deep, piercing agony that was taking over. One of the humans immediately took advantage of his moment of weakness and reached under the net, quickly catching Merlin’s tail in his grasp. He fastened a rope around the end, right before the fin, where it had no possibility of slipping off. Merlin’s blood ran cold when he realised he could no longer move his tail and he resumed his struggles, except this time they were far more violent. He managed to hit one human in the face and send him reeling back. At least, Merlin hoped he did. He couldn’t see well enough to be able to confirm it, but the man didn’t come back so he counted it as a win.

Unfortunately, that was the extent of his accomplishments.

Before he knew it, he was completely immobile, left to flop around uselessly. His hands were no longer entangled in the net, having been caught and bound—each separately—and then pulled to his sides. Merlin was hauled out of the water and deposited onto something firm. His head hit the wooden deck hard, and he lost his sense of orientation for the few seconds it took the black spots to recede.

Merlin looked up at his captors, heaving and struggling to pull air into his lungs. There were five of them, each looking down at him in glee. Two were on each side, holding the ropes tied to his wrists, and two more were at his tail. The last was standing above Merlin’s head, holding his bloody nose and glaring at him.

Merlin’s gills flared as he took them in. He started struggling again and tried to move his tail and arms, but the men holding the ropes were strong and held fast. Merlin bared his fangs and hissed at them, hoping it would scare them off.

Needless to say, it didn’t work. The humans merely laughed and hollered and shouted words that Merlin couldn’t understand.

_“What in God’s name is going on here?!”_

Merlin tried turning his head in the direction of the human who shouted. He couldn’t manage much more than a small twist of his neck, and even then, his view was largely obscured by the humans above him.

 _“They’re real, Captain!”_ the man standing near his head shouted up towards the larger ship. _“We’ve just nabbed ourselves a merman!”_

The sound of clanking metal reverberated over the still waters, and moments later, the boat started rising. Once it was level with the ship, Merlin’s captors hauled him over the side and dropped him onto the wooden deck, never once letting go of the ropes.

Footsteps sounded as someone approached them. The man’s feet (that’s what they were called, weren’t they? Humans had _legs_ and _feet_ instead of tails like civilised creatures) were bare, and his legs encased in brown, loose-fitting trousers. When he looked further up, he saw a loose white shirt, unlaced near the neck, and a head of blond hair.

The man was looking at him with wide blue eyes. He kneeled next to Merlin’s head and reached out his hand to touch his face. Merlin waited until it was close to his mouth before lunging at it and snapping his teeth. Unfortunately for him, the man retracted his hand before Merlin could sink his delightfully sharp teeth into his flesh.

_“Careful, Cap’n. It bites.”_

The newly arrived human paid no heed to the others, eyes trailing over Merlin's body, analysing. Merlin felt laid bare before him. Needless to say, he didn’t like it. Merlin hissed again, hoping against all hope that it would get the man to back off—or, better yet, tell the other humans to let go of him since he was obviously in charge.

Not that Merlin would let them go that easily, of course. He’d take a few arms and legs with him. Maybe a head, too, if he got lucky. Or a spine? He could hang it over the entrance of his cave like a trophy.

 _“What’s wrong with its tail?”_ the blond man asked, turning to look at the man holding the rope connected to his left wrist, looking completely unafraid.

Merlin was going to gouge out those gorgeous eyes the moment he managed to get a hand loose—his claws weren’t just for show—and when he finished with that, he’d sink his teeth into the man’s neck and rip out his trachea.

Imagining it all was _immensely_ satisfying.

 _“Took a blow from a harpoon. Had to slow it down to catch it. Wasn’t easy. Damned thing kept struggling. Got a few scratches on my arms to prove it,”_ the other man replied, letting go of the rope with one of his hands to gesture towards the scratches on the other.

The second he did, Merlin pulled his arm toward himself and rolled into the man on his right. Brute strength and a not so small amount of luck allowed Merlin to pull one arm free. He brought it up to the other hand to claw at the rope there, swishing his tail in what he knew was going to be a useless attempt to get free, but he _had_ to try.

He was just about to tear the rope to shreds when something landed on his tail, right on the place where he was injured. Merlin let out an inhuman shriek at the pain that suddenly enveloped his entire being. While he was out of it and panting for breath, someone managed to retie his other arm. Merlin shut his eyes, praying for the damned thing to get off of him and the agony to stop.

 _“Be more careful!”_ the blond man barked. _“Don’t damage it any more. It needs to survive the journey back to the mainland.”_

_“Aye aye, sir!”_

The thing (a foot; it must have been one of those seas forsaken _feet_!) was removed from Merlin’s tail. He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked down to survey the damage. His tail, which had once been a mix of rich, bright blues interspersed with the odd patch of golden scales, was now covered in so much blood that one could barely see past the red. Even if Merlin did manage to get free, it would be a miracle if he made it home before a shark got to him.

 _“Get it to Gaius,”_ the blond shouted at the others. _“Can’t have it bleeding out on deck, can we?”_

 _“Aye, Cap’n,”_ the men chorused. The ropes were hefted up again, and Merlin found himself airborne once more. His arms tail hurt, and he couldn’t do anything other than to hold himself as still as possible, close his eyes, and hold his breath in hopes that the pain would soon stop.

The men carried him all the way across the deck of the ship— _away from the water!_ —and walked through what must constitute a door above land. It was another minute or so before he was deposited onto something that was at first dry and soft, but got wet and uncomfortable rather quickly.

 _“Is that…?”_ someone asked, coming up to them.

_“A merman. In the flesh.”_

_“Remarkable!”_ the new man exclaimed, looking Merlin up and down through the glass over his eyes. He had white, chin-length hair and was wearing weird, long clothes that slightly resembled dresses that Merlin usually saw on human women.

 _“The Cap’n said to get it treated,”_ one of the men by his tail said. Merlin glared at him first. Then, he glared at each of the humans in turn, teeth out and at the ready. He’d remember their faces. Then, if he ever got out of here, he would pry the skin off their flesh with his own two hands.

 _“Fascinating! Does it speak?”_ asked the new man. He looked old—at least twice as old as the others, if Merlin had to guess.

_“I reckon if it did, it’d have said something by now.”_

The old man moved forwards, standing at the foot of what Merlin assumed was a human nest. He leant forward and looked at the wound on Merlin’s tail. Merlin let him, but the moment the man reached out to touch, he hissed and started struggling in his bindings.

 _“You’re going to have to hold it steady. I’ll need to clean away the blood to see the injury.”_ The old man moved away. Merlin followed him with his eyes as he got a cloth and a see-through container. He opened it and tipped it to the side so that some of the contents landed on the cloth. When he moved his hand toward Merlin’s tail, Merlin began to struggle again, unwilling to let the strange substance anywhere near him.

 _“For God’s sake, hold it down!”_ the old man exclaimed, and before Merlin knew it, there were strong hands gripping his tail fin, and more pinning his hips to the nest. The old man moved quickly while Merlin tried to get free. He swiped the cloth to and fro, staining it a deep, dark red with Merlin’s blood. Merlin barely felt it at first, but then some of the substance reached his injury and it hurt so much that it made him start thrashing all over again to get away from the pain. No one paid him any mind.

The old man turned the cloth over and wet it with the painful substance again. When he put it right on top of the injury, Merlin shrieked.

The container in the old man’s hand broke. He dropped the cloth, leaving it on top of Merlin’s tail, and brought his hands up to his ears.

When Merlin finally fell silent it was because he no longer had the strength to scream. His cheeks were wet with tears—it was his first time actually seeing them clumping his lashes together.

It was unfair. He’d not done anything to warrant such treatment. He’d not done anything to warrant getting _captured_. He should have listened to Freya when she’d told him nothing good could come of such frequent visits to the surface, but he’d always had a weakness for the evening sky, when the sun was red and orange and coloured the ocean gold.

He didn’t even notice when the old man got rid of the cloth, or when some more white cloth was bound around his injury.

 _“I’m uncertain as to how to sew such an injury shut. Be careful with it. We don’t want it to start bleeding again,”_ the old man said. The other humans nodded. Once more, Merlin was lifted, but this time, the action was much more careful. He would have struggled if he had the strength, but that previous thrashing had left him weak and helpless. Merlin didn’t even have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore.

_“The Captain ordered you to take the creature to his quarters. Said he wanted to inspect it.”_

_“Aye.”_

They brought Merlin to a different room and dumped him on the floor. The ropes around his wrists were promptly tied to metal loops mounted on the walls, forcing him to adopt an uncomfortable, slouched position. His tail was similarly secured to the floor. Hushed conversations floated around the room for a while, but Merlin was too tired to even try to make out any of the words. What was the point if he couldn’t understand them? Instead, he used his limited amount of peace and quiet to doze, since he was unsure whether he’d have the opportunity again. Resting would at least help him regain some energy.

Probably.

 _Hopefully_.

In truth, Merlin wasn’t sure. He’d never been outside of the water this long, nor had anyone else he knew. Seas knew how his body would react.

Merlin didn’t get to sleep for very long. What seemed like mere moments later, he heard the sound of footsteps. Merlin forced his eyes to open and focus on the person approaching him.

It was the blond man again, the one who gave the orders. Merlin wanted to hiss at him, to snap his jaws or swipe his claws and _maim_ this wretched human—and he very well would have, had he not been injured and tied up like an _animal_.

As it was, he just let his eyes slip shut again. He barely had the energy to tense when the man sat down on the floor next to him.

 _“You’re beautiful,”_ he said. He had a deep, soothing voice, and the words flowed easily from his lips. His face was also surprisingly pleasing to the eye, especially considering he was a human; it also looked much kinder than any of the other faces Merlin had seen today. Against his better judgement, Merlin found himself beginning to relax and slid down the wall as far as the ropes would allow.

 _“I wonder if you can speak…”_ said the man. His voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. Or like Merlin was underwater, which, quite frankly, was something that he doubted he would ever experience again.

In an effort to ignore the human, Merlin let his eyes slip shut.

The man tapped Merlin’s arm to get his attention, being mindful of the sharp fin stretching nearly from his wrist to his elbow. Merlin opened one eye and looked at him wearily. The man was staring back, but he seemed calculating, maybe even excited.

 _“My name is Arthur,”_ the man said, gesturing to himself. Merlin scoffed and turned his head away. He wanted to play nice now, did he? Merlin wasn’t going to fall for it. The man would probably just turn around and shove another harpoon through his tail the moment something didn’t go his way.

Speaking of, that _still_ hurt. If he ever found out who did it, there would be hell to pay, captive or not.

There were a few more incessant taps on his arm. Merlin turned his head back, growling and baring his teeth, trying to scare the human away. The man, however, was unperturbed. It only served to make Merlin angrier.

 _“Arthur,”_ he repeated, pointing to himself with his index finger.

“You can go shove that finger up your arse, _Arthur_ ,” Merlin snapped back, revelling in the look of complete and utter surprise on _Arthur’s_ face.

 _“Was that… Did you just speak?!”_ he exclaimed incredulously. Any joy Merlin might have felt was overcome by annoyance at the sight of _Arthur’s_ grin. He turned his head away again. When the fingers resumed tapping on his arm, Merlin ignored them for all of ten seconds before turning back and hissing at _Arthur_.

“When someone ignores you, it generally means they don’t want to talk to you, you stupid prat!” Merlin spat. _Arthur_ paid no heed to his words and instead opted for wagging his finger between the two of them.

 _“Arthur,”_ he said pointing at himself. Then, he gestured towards Merlin, probably trying to get his name in return. When Merlin didn’t do anything other than glare at him with all the ferocity he could muster in his current state, _Arthur_ repeated the action. When he did it for the fifth time, Merlin rolled his eyes and relented.

“Merlin,” he said, attempting to move his hand toward his chest and gesture to himself, momentarily forgetting that it was still restrained.

“Merlin?” _Arthur_ repeated, gesturing to him. Merlin nodded, hoping to all the seas that _Arthur_ understood it for the affirmation it was.

“Can I go to sleep now, or do you plan to annoy me to death?” Merlin grumbled. Sleep sounded brilliant right about now. He felt exhausted enough to drift off despite the bindings and the rigidity of the wooden floor, and—worst of all—the all-encompassing dryness that made his skin crawl.

...The sensation seemed to have become more intense than it had been a few seconds earlier—

Merlin’s eyes snapped open when the tingling sensation began to spread from his skin to his scales. Quickly, it turned into a blistering, burning itch that he couldn't ignore.

“Water,” he said, looking back at _Arthur_. “I need water!”

 _Arthur_ stared at him in confusion.

“Water?” he repeated in a questioning tone of voice. Merlin groaned. How was he going to explain what water was? Especially with his hands tied and nothing to gesture with other than his head.

His eyes landed on his arm. The skin there was quickly beginning to crack and turn an alarming shade of red—Merlin instinctively knew it was a consequence of spending too much time out of the sea. He was a merman, for the Kraken’s sake! It stood to reason that he wouldn’t be able to spend too much time away from the water.

Merlin struggled to lift his arm up to show _Arthur_ the broken skin, but his movements went largely ignored. He groaned in frustration.

“ _Arthur,_ look!” he said, gesturing with his head, hoping that _Arthur_ wasn’t as stupid as he seemed to be and would somehow, _miraculously_ manage to come to the same conclusion Merlin had, and therefore save him from what would probably be a slow and gruesome death.

Unfortunately, all _Arthur_ did was stare at him uncomprehendingly. It wasn’t until Merlin hissed again—this time at the worsening pain instead of the human next to him _Arthur_ understood.

 _“Oh! Water! You need water!”_ _Arthur_ rose to his feet and frantically looked around the room. On second thought, Merlin wasn’t sure if he’d understood what had been asked for, since _Arthur_ wasn’t racing outside to get him what he needed. Maybe humans really _were_ that stupid and hopeless.

 _Arthur_ took a few steps towards something that looked like an odd sort of table. He grabbed something that was on it—something that resembled a detached pouch more than it did water.

If Merlin could, he’d bang his head against a wall at _Arthur’s_ sheer stupidity.

 _Arthur_ came back to kneel next to him and opened the pouch. He positioned it right above Merlin’s arm and tilted it. For a second, Merlin was afraid that it contained the same substance that the old man had used—the one that had burned and _hurt_ —but that fear passed when he felt the soothing sensation of water dripping onto his skin.

Hah. Maybe not so stupid, after all.

Merlin could have moaned when Arthur moved to pour the water onto his chest. He couldn’t quite stop his tail fin from swishing from side to side almost happily.

 _“I’ll go ask someone to bring in a tub. I’ll be right back,”_ Arthur said once the water was gone, taking most of the cracked patches of skin with it. He got back up and walked to the door, his steps quick and energetic.

And then he was gone without a second glance. Merlin wondered if he’d come back.

Arthur _did_ come back. Unfortunately, he didn’t come back alone, but rather accompanied by two men rolling a weird, round container between them.

" _I brought the tub_ ," Arthur said, looking at Merlin, lips tilting upwards into something almost resembling a smile. He must have once again forgotten that Merlin couldn't understand him. In return, Merlin rolled his eyes, then went back to watching the men do whatever it was they were doing. Keeping an eye on them was more important than paying attention to Arthur.

They put the thing in the corner of the room, away from the odd, glassed hole in the side of the ship, then left. Arthur sat down behind the odd table-thing. He leant down to the left, and after a few more seconds, he emerged with a small stack of white rectangles, a feather, and a glass container filled with something that didn't look unlike what octopuses expelled whenever someone got too close to them.

" _I need to start taking notes_ ," Arthur said, almost as though to himself. " _And I'll need to make a few sketches as well_."

Merlin raised himself up a bit in an attempt to catch a glimpse of whatever Arthur was doing, but he didn't get far before the bindings put a stop to his shenanigans. He flopped back down onto the floor with a sigh. His skin was beginning to itch again.

The door to the room opened abruptly and careened into the wall. The men from before walked back in, bringing with them two small wooden containers with handles attached to the top.

Merlin smelled it before he saw it—they were carrying seawater. As he watched, they poured it into the large container they'd brought in before, then left once again.

Merlin's entire being ached with the need to submerge himself in that seawater, even if it wasn't nearly enough to cover the whole of his body. He could barely force himself to tear his eyes away.

Arthur, on the other hand, seemed to have occupied himself with moving the feather over the white rectangles. Merlin, for the life of him, couldn't come up with why they had garnered all of Arthur's attention; scratching them with the feather seemed so _inane_.

While Arthur was busy with his scratching and feather-dipping, the men came back and left a few more times, and eventually, the level of seawater in the big container rose to a height even Merlin, from his bound position, could see. His fins twitched almost as of their own accord.

" _We're done, Cap'n_ ," one of the men finally said. His brown hair came down to his shoulder and he had scruff on his chin, but that wasn’t what caught Merlin’s attention. Rather, it was the pendant he wore around his neck that Merlin found himself staring at. It shone like nothing down in the depths of the sea seemed to. In the daylight, when he stood in front of the glassed hole in the wall, the pendant shone almost as brightly as the sun.

" _Then move him into the tub. Can't have him drying out and dying before we get him back to the mainland_ ," Arthur replied, not once bothering to look in his direction.

Right after Arthur spoke, the men started to make their way over to Merlin. He hissed at them and let his fins flare out, but it didn't seem to deter them in the slightest—and why would it, when he was obviously going nowhere fast what with the state he was in.

" _Easy now_ ," said the taller man. He held his hands out in front of him and let the corners of his mouth rise up into a smile before taking a few more steps towards Merlin.

Merlin hissed again.

" _I don't think it likes us much_." The scruffy man laughed. " _Reckon it'd sink its teeth into us the second it got the chance, Perce_."

" _For once in your life, Gwaine, you’re talking sense_. _Never thought I'd live to see the day_ ," the tall man replied, not taking his eyes off Merlin. He moved a few steps closer, ignoring all of Merlin’s warnings to back away. To Merlin's surprise, he didn't reach out to touch him, but rather to untie the ropes attached to the walls.

It was almost a repeat of the earlier incident. The second the knots restraining one hand were undone, Merlin jerked it towards him and began to claw at the rope keeping his other hand tethered to the wall. Unfortunately, just like before, his efforts amounted to nothing. Once the taller man realised what was happening, he pulled on the rope sharply, stopping Merlin in his tracks.

Merlin's face burned with humiliation when the scruffy man started laughing.

" _I reckon we could use a little help with this one, Cap'n. Seems to be a fighter_."

From the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur look up from his feather-scratching nonsense, a smile sliding into place when he saw Merlin struggling against the taller man's hold.

" _He's got spirit,_ " Arthur said. " _I'll give him that. But I'm sure the two of you will manage_."

" _Scared of it, then?_ "

" _Not more than you, Gwaine, but I do enjoy watching you struggle_ ," Arthur replied, looking back down at the surface of the not-table.

The scruffy man sighed, but carefully manoeuvred around Merlin so that he could untie his other hand. That done, he handed the rope to his companion—making sure Merlin's hands were far enough away from each other that he wouldn't be able to make another scramble towards freedom—and moved to untie the rope around his tail.

" _You sure you want him in the tub?_ " the taller man asked, grimacing. " _Seems to me a merman in water is more dangerous than one out of it_."

" _I can't have him drying out_ ," Arthur replied. " _I'd rather risk suffering a few scratches to the face rather than bringing in a dead merman._ '

" _A dead merman is better than a dead captain,_ " the scruffy man said, eyeing Merlin warily. " _You really want us to leave you alone with it?_ "

" _It'll be fine, Gwaine. It's not like I can't protect myself if worse comes to worst_."

" _I still don't like it_ ," the scruffy man said. He held Arthur’s gaze for a few seconds before sighing and hauling Merlin up by the tail; Merlin hissed as his injury was aggravated again. Thankfully, the man slipped an arm under it to better support Merlin's weight and take the strain off the wound.

" _You know, Captain, this whole exercise would be much easier if you helped_ ," the taller man said. He curled the ropes he was holding around his wrists, then heaved. Merlin struggled as his whole body suddenly became airborne. Thankfully, the frightful sensation didn't last long—before he knew it, he'd been transported across the room and into the seawater. He tried to stop the sigh of pleasure before it managed to make its way out of his mouth, but he didn't quite manage it, if the smirk on Arthur’s face was anything to go by. In reply, Merlin bared his teeth, making sure Arthur could see _exactly_ how pointy they were.

The ropes were promptly retied—the ones around Merlin’s wrists were fastened to metal loops jutting out of the two corner walls, and the one entwining his tail was attached to one embedded in the wooden floor—and what sort of person turned their own room into a prison?!

Merlin was ashamed to admit he didn't struggle as much as he should have during the transfer, but in his defence, he’d been a bit preoccupied with the wonderful feeling of being surrounded by water rather than air. He’d never expected to miss water with such an overwhelming ferocity.

" _You managed well enough on your own_ ," Arthur said, still not taking his eyes off Merlin. It made Merlin wonder whether Arthur was speaking to him again. Arthur seemed to smile a bit when he saw Merlin wriggle to make himself more comfortable in the large, wooden container. When he stilled, the other two men tested the ropes to see if they held, then promptly turned around, saluted, and left.

A few minutes later, Arthur left too, and Merlin found himself all alone in the dimming room.

As it turned out, being left alone to ruminate on his impending doom wasn't as nice as Merlin had expected. At least when Arthur had been in the room with him, he’d had a distraction. Arthur was someone Merlin could watch— _observe_ — rather than thinking about his own future.

Now that there were no more distractions and Merlin was tied up in an unfamiliar room far above the sea, he found he couldn't keep his mind from wandering to what would happen to him if he didn't manage to escape. And even if he did escape, would he be able to find his way back home? The seas were vast, and there was no guarantee that if he managed to free himself, he would wind up in a place he was familiar with, or amongst those who could point him homeward.

The thought made tears well up in his eyes, but Merlin steadfastly refused to let them fall. Even if Arthur wasn't here, he could come back anytime, and the last thing Merlin wanted was for Arthur to see him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He wouldn't let any of the humans see how much this situation was getting to him. He _wouldn't_.

Oh seas, he hoped he wouldn't end up in an aquarium in one of the human cities. He'd heard of them, of how the humans kept fish and other ocean creatures locked up behind glass, away from their homes. He'd heard of how many creatures were bred there, then raised in captivity. Was that to be his future?

Or would he end up on a physician's table, to be studied and dissected as though he were nothing more than an animal, nothing but a new toy for the humans to play with. They would surround him and use their sharp knives to cut him open, leave him bleeding out across the wood, and they would point and talk and dig around inside him, caring naught about the insufferable agony they would be causing.

Merlin didn't quite manage to keep the tears from falling right then.

Arthur... Arthur didn't seem _completely_ horrid. Maybe he would let Merlin go? Maybe Merlin could _convince_ him to let him go, if he tried hard enough? If he told Arthur everything he wanted to know, answered any questions he might have?

Seas below, who was he kidding? He was doomed!

Arthur returned once the last of the sunlight had disappeared, and he brought with him a plate full of something that smelled suspiciously like fish. Merlin turned his head into his shoulder to wipe away the tears before Arthur could see them.

The plate clanged as it was put down on the not-table, and soon after, one of the white sticks that had been standing atop it was set aflame. As Merlin watched, Arthur picked up the plate again and turned to face him.

His expression was one of curiosity; to Merlin's chagrin, there _still_ didn't seem to be an ounce of fear in him. It made Merlin uneasy.

" _I brought you some food_ ," Arthur said, his voice soft, yet still somehow managing to reverberate throughout the room. " _I thought you might be hungry_."

Merlin tensed as Arthur came up to him with the plate of food. His fins flared, trying to warn Arthur away from him, and his gills flapped uselessly against his skin—seas, would he _ever_ get used to constantly having to use lungs to breathe?—but none of this seemed to deter Arthur. Maybe humans were just too stupid to understand what Merlin meant by it, but Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that Arthur simply didn't care, utterly convinced of his own safety.

" _Seeing as I'm not so stupid as to bring my hand anywhere near your teeth, I'm going to free one of your hands so that you can eat_."

When Merlin tilted his head at Arthur in question, Arthur sighed. Using his free hand, he pointed first to the plate, then to Merlin. Then again to the plate, to Merlin's hand, and finally the rope.

'He brought me food,' Merlin realised. He held still as Arthur carefully put the plate down at his feet and reached for where the rope was keeping Merlin's left hand bound to the wall. Arthur didn't free him completely, but he loosened the bindings so that Merlin was left with just enough range of movement to be able to reach his mouth with the tips of his fingers. Eating like this would be uncomfortable, but better than starving.

He jumped when Arthur moved again, but it was only to pick up the plate. He stared at Merlin for a few more seconds, before moving the plate so that it was just within his reach.

" _I really hope you don't decide to shred my hand right now_ ," Arthur muttered, almost as though to himself. Hesitantly, Merlin reached out for the raw fish laying atop the plate. It wasn't whole, as he had expected, but rather seemed to consist of just the muscle that adhered to the ribs and spine. He furrowed his brows. Did the humans eat just this? What about the rest of the fish? The liver, the heart, the head? Such wasteful creatures.

Arthur's gaze was sharp as he tracked the movements of Merlin's hand; his attention seemed to mostly be concentrated on the claws at the tips of Merlin's fingers, and maybe also a bit on the webbing between them.

Speaking of which, humans didn't seem to have much in the way of webbing either. Why did they even bother going out to sea when their bodies were so obviously unsuited towards swimming?

The tension in Arthur’s muscles became more pronounced as Merlin's hand hovered above the fish. For a moment, Merlin was tempted to knock the plate away and tear his claws into Arthur then and there, but he thought better of it. He was injured, hungry, and tied up. Even if he killed Arthur right now, there was no guarantee that he'd be able to find his way off the ship and get himself back home. As much as Merlin might despise him, Arthur did seem to want to keep him alive, at least for a while. No use making an enemy of him just yet.

Going against his baser instincts, instead of clawing at Arthur’s arm, Merlin carefully grabbed the food.

The fish was obviously fresh, if not as fresh as what Merlin was used to. He brought it to his mouth and tore into it, constantly aware of Arthur’s gaze upon him, unwavering. Opting to ignore him, Merlin quickly finished off the first fillet and got started on the second.

" _I wasn't sure how much food you need, so I just brought this._ "

Merlin glanced in Arthur's direction, but quickly refocused his gaze on the food. It was heavenly, having the taste of it in his mouth and the weight of it in his belly. He'd not had much to eat since the morning.

He licked his fingers when he was done, then reluctantly allowed Arthur to retighten the bindings on his arm, glaring at him all the while.

" _I’m uncertain whether you need any water to drink, but I shall assume you will be fine in that regard, considering you're submerged in it_ ," Arthur said as he brought the plate back to his not-table. Merlin closed his eyes and shifted to get more comfortable; his spine wasn't particularly happy with the position his body was being forced into. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would manage to doze off and get some well-deserved sleep.

"Merlin," Arthur said. Merlin jerked his head up to look at him. " _Is that really your name, I wonder? Could you say something else?"_

Arthur grabbed the stack of white rectangles from his not-table and approached Merlin.

" _This is paper_ ," Arthur said, enunciating each word clearly. " _Paper_ ," he repeated, pointing to what he was holding.

Merlin closed his eyes and did his absolute best to ignore him.

" _Come on, I know you can speak. Well, it sounded like you spoke before, when you were brought in. Stop ignoring me,_ " Arthur huffed. "Merlin."

"What?!" Merlin snarled. Judging by the smile on Arthur's face, by replying he'd given the prat just what he wanted. "Is it not enough that you took me from my home? Do I also have to suffer through your inane chatter?"

" _Paper_ ," is what Arthur said in reply, once again pointing to the stack of rectangles. Merlin rolled his eyes skywards.

" _Paper_ ," he repeated flatly.

" _Yes! This is paper!_ " Arthur exclaimed, grin doubling in size. He started waving the rectangles—the _paper_ —around in front of Merlin's face. Merlin wrinkled his nose.

"Glad we got that out of the way. Now let me sleep." He turned his head to the side.

" _How about..._ " Arthur said, looking around. Seas below, why was he still _talking_?! " _How about the plate_?" Arthur walked back over to the not-table, put the paper down, and grabbed the plate Merlin had been eating from a mere minute ago. " _Plate_ ," he said, pointing at it.

"Plate," Merlin retorted in Mermish.

" _No. Plate_ ," Arthur repeated, waving around the item in question. " _Plate_. _Come on, I know you can say it. Plate._ "

"Plate," countered Merlin. He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from rising up in an unbidden smile at Arthur's exasperated sigh.

" _...You're messing with me_." Arthur glared at him. " _Fine, be that way._ Plate," he repeated what Merlin had just said. The accent was a bit off, but he didn't completely butcher the word.

"Good talk," Merlin said. "Now please let me sleep."

Judging by the gleam in Arthur's eyes, neither of them would be getting any rest anytime soon.

By the time Arthur decided he'd had enough, the white stick (apparently, they were called _candles_ ) on his not-table (his _desk_ , as it turned out) had almost burned out. Arthur's eyelids were slowly but surely slipping shut as he sat on something called a _chair_ about a metre away from Merlin's _tub_.

After the initial excitement had passed, Arthur had grabbed the _quill_ and _ink_ and used them to make scribbles on the paper (he called it _writing_ ). Merlin wasn't yet sure what it did, exactly, but Arthur did it every time Merlin came up with a new word.

The injury on Merlin's tail was starting to pain him again, now that the initial rush had worn off and exhaustion settled in. He tried to occupy himself by watching as Arthur got ready to sleep—he was especially curious as to why Arthur left the room in one set of clothes and returned wearing another—but he quickly found that he couldn't keep his own eyes open.

How odd it was, falling asleep above water. Merlin had heard of pods that were settled closer to land and frequently dozed on rocks or sandy beaches, but he couldn't see the appeal of it. It was decidedly odd having the cool air caress his wet skin every time Arthur walked by—nothing like the comforting sea currents back home.

Home. He wondered if his mother had noticed he was missing. Would she have gone out to look for him? He could easily imagine her swimming from door to door, asking his friends if they'd seen him. Merlin’s heart clenched when he thought about how much it would hurt her to realise she had lost her son to the same creatures who had taken her mate from her years ago.

For her, he promised to make it back home. He wouldn't be the reason for his mother's grief.

He let that conviction lull him into a restless sleep.

Merlin awoke to the smell of fresh fish. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, but the tug of ropes on his wrists reminded him of where he was. It stung.

Arthur was already up and about, and wearing yet _another_ set of clothes, albeit they were similar to what he'd worn throughout the previous day. The smell of fish was coming from the direction of Arthur's desk.

" _Plate_?" Merlin grumbled in broken... Human? Was that what it was called? Was there just the one tongue? Did the humans, like merfolk, have multiple? In any case, he needed to learn the word for 'food', or 'fish' at the very least.

" _You're awake!_ " Arthur exclaimed, turning on his heel to look at him. He had deep, purple bags under his eyes, and his movements seemed slower than yesterday. He seemed no better-rested than Merlin. _"I brought you food, but I was unsure as to when you would be up."_

"Plate," Merlin repeated, this time in Mermish, ignoring all of Arthur's muttered gibberish. "I'm hungry, you prat. The least you can do is give me something to eat."

" _I shall assume that what you're whining about is the lack of food on your person_ ," Arthur said. He walked over to the desk and grabbed the plate, then approached Merlin. " _What you're eating is called fish in English. I'd teach you the word for food, but I don't have near me anything that would allow me to explain the difference between the two_."

Merlin straightened up when Arthur held the plate out to him.

" _Fish_ ," Arthur said, pointing to the contents of the plate. Merlin quickly repeated the word, then motioned with his head toward his bound hand. Arthur laughed and rolled his eyes. " _Someone is eager_."

How Arthur managed to undo the knot one-handed, Merlin would never know—nor did he, at that particular moment, care. As soon as he was able to, he thrust his hand towards the food on the plate, hissing when his cramped muscles were forced to stretch too quickly.

Seas, now that he thought of it, the rest of his body wasn't doing too well, either. Would they force him to stay in this tub for days, weeks, _months_ on end? Maybe he would be able to convince Arthur to let him move around a bit more.

" _You will need something bigger than this tub_ ," Arthur said, watching Merlin as he ate. " _I've got Elyan working on it_."

Arthur placed the plate down on the edge of the tub, where it wobbled precariously, and walked over to where Merlin's tail fin was hanging over the edge. Merlin quickly snatched the remaining piece of fish before it could fall to the floor.

" _Gaius also said you're due for a change of bandages, but I would prefer if he kept his distance from you. He isn’t young anymore, and his reflexes are far from what they used to be. As soon as you finish eating, we shall get to work on that, I think_."

The fish didn't last him very long. It left Merlin a bit hungry, but nowhere near as ravenous as he'd been before. Did humans really eat so little during their mealtimes?

The plate did eventually fall from the edge of the tub, but by that time, Arthur had returned to Merlin's side and managed to catch it. After licking his fingers clean, Merlin looked up to find Arthur gazing at him expectantly.

"...I'm not going to thank you, if that's what you're after. You brought me here; the least you can do is feed me."

" _I cannot decide whether I should tighten the rope again_ ," Arthur replied. " _Judging by your earlier display, your muscles have seized up; I should probably let you move around some_."

Merlin tilted his head in confusion as Arthur leant over him and reached for the binding on his other arm. His mouth fell open when it, too, was loosened, albeit by no more than thrice the length of his pinkie finger.

" _As much as you won't like me doing this, I need to check on that injury. I'm not so foolish as to loosen the ropes on your tail; you would probably hit me over the head as soon as my back was turned_."

Miraculously, Arthur left him like that, with the ropes allowing him to move his hands. Merlin pushed his arms forward as far as they would go to try to get rid of the soreness that had settled in. Once he was done with that, he placed his elbows on the edges of the tub and tried to push himself up, groaning when the movement caused the bones of his spine to pop.

" _...I suppose I will need to loosen the rope on your tail as well, once I'm done treating you_ ," Arthur said from somewhere to the left of him. " _My back would be killing me if I had spent the night like that_."

Merlin paid him no heed, preferring to occupy himself with trying to ease his weight onto his hip since he couldn't feel his backside anymore. His wound twinged with every movement, but he did his best to ignore it—

—until the moment Arthur decided to approach it, holding a clear container and a roll of white cloth.

"...What is that?" Merlin asked, eyeing the bottle with distaste. Arthur used his free hand to drag the chair over to where he was standing and placed the items atop it. "The look on your face tells me it's probably not water."

" _Gaius gave me some supplies. He said you did not appreciate him putting the alcohol onto your wound yesterday—not that I blame you, it stings like the devil—and I've also got some clean bandages. Here's to hoping that your injury has not festered. I would prefer not to haul a dead merman all the way back to England_."

The fins on Merlin's forearms bristled when Arthur reached out to place his hand on Merlin’s tail, but Arthur didn't seem to want to hurt him. Instead, his fingers wandered over the expanse of white cloth wrapped around Merlin’s tail until they reached the little knot at the back. Arthur tugged on it a few times, trying untie it, but he couldn't seem to get it loose. When one of the tugs aggravated the injury beneath the cloth and Merlin hissed, Arthur backed off. To Merlin’s horror, he was back mere moments later with a _knife_.

Merlin stilled.

" _I'm not going to hurt you_ ," Arthur huffed. " _I just need to cut away the knot. Gaius tied it too tightly_."

Merlin didn't dare to breathe as Arthur brought the knife closer to his body; he'd seen what the sharp edge of a blade could do, and he didn't want to be injured any more than he already was.

There was a quick tug, and then the knife was clattering onto the floor at the base of the tub. Arthur grabbed hold of one end of the white cloth and started to unravel it. The process required him to move his hands under the base of Merlin's tail fin; Merlin had to try really, _really_ hard not to take advantage of that and smash the delicate bones of Arthur's fingers between his own body and the edge of the tub.

Finally, the rest of the cloth fell away. Underneath it was a small, white square of fabric. Arthur peeled it away slowly, occasionally looking up apologetically when Merlin hissed in pain. Eventually, he managed to get the whole thing off and reveal the injury. It had scabbed over, thankfully, and some of the surrounding scales were starting to fall away. Merlin jumped when Arthur pressed down next to the wound with his fingers.

" _It seems all right_ ," Arthur said. Then, his fingers were gone and Arthur was opening the glass container. Merlin's eyes widened when the smell of its contents hit his nose.

"Oh seas, no! I'm not letting that thing anywhere near me!" he yelled at Arthur, writhing in his bindings.

" _Look, I don't like it either, but Gaius says that using it to clean your injury will stop it from festering. Shut your mouth and stop moving around so much_!" Arthur yelled back. He grabbed one of the fresh pieces of cloth and brought it to the opening of the bottle, which he then tilted to the side. The contents soaked into the fabric, making the smell much more potent than it had been. Merlin wrinkled his nose.

When Arthur moved the cloth so that it was hovering above the injury on his tail, Merlin hissed at him, making sure to sound as threatening as he possibly could.

" _The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can move on to more pleasant things. We could try to communicate again? I have plenty of paper and ink left, and it isn’t as though there is anything else around for you to occupy your time with. I mean, I will have to leave the cabin for a while—the crew is a bit restless, see, as recently I have been spending most of my time in here_."

Merlin outright snarled when Arthur pressed the cloth down. The liquid didn't sting as much as it had yesterday, but it was still unpleasant. Irked, he attempted to thump Arthur with his tail fin, but he couldn't move enough for it to do much damage. Or any damage at all, really.

" _As much as I enjoy your company, I am starting to think that maybe you are more trouble than you are worth_." Arthur glowered at him. He pressed the cloth to Merlin's injury two more times before dumping it to the floor at his side. " _There, done. I will wrap it back up in bandages and you will be free to go_."

Maybe it was petty, but Merlin used his elbow to fling seawater in Arthur's general direction.

" _Damn it_!" Arthur yelled as he suddenly found his shirt drenched. " _That was uncalled for_!"

Merlin glared.

" _Does your pea-sized brain not comprehend that injuries need to be treated? And here I was starting to hope you were an intelligent creature_..." Arthur grumbled, almost as though to himself. " _Very well then. Since you’re so irked with me, I will go fetch Gwaine so that you will have someone else to focus your attention on_. _I have to go find some ointment, anyhow_."

Arthur got up from his crouching position near Merlin's tail and promptly left the room.

Merlin didn't mind being left alone. It afforded him time to enjoy the moderate freedom he had been given. He spent a few minutes revelling in how much he was able to move his arms now—not enough to reach anywhere important, of course; unfortunately, the rope stayed out of reach of his teeth no matter how much he stretched—but he quickly lost interest in that and refocused his attention on his tail. Arthur had left before he could rewrap it in that odd, white cloth, and now Merlin's injury was bared for the world to see.

He itched to get some of the damaged scales away from the wound. They would fall off on their own soon enough, but the sensation of them tugging on his skin was unpleasant, to say the least. Maybe when Arthur inevitably came back Merlin would be able to convince him to do it for him—not that he knew how he could accomplish that. Humans used hand gestures, didn’t they? Perhaps he’d be able to _show_ Arthur what he wanted him to do.

Seas. Now that the numbness had faded, his arse was _really_ starting to hurt.

When Arthur returned, it was with another human in tow—the scruffy one from the other day, actually. He was grinning as he followed Arthur through the door and into the room.

"Merlin," Arthur said, gesturing towards Merlin. " _Gwaine_." He gestured towards the scruffy man.

" _You let it off its leash_?" Gwaine asked, eyes closing in on the loosened ropes. Merlin bristled as he came closer.

" _Him. And no, not entirely, but I see no harm in allowing him to move around a little. It isn’t as though he can do much_ ," Arthur said, pushing past Gwaine to stand near Merlin's tail. He was holding another glass container.

"If you've brought more of that stinging water to put on my wound, I'll tear every bit of skin off your face with my bare hands," Merlin threatened, clenching his fists.

" _He talks_!" Gwaine exclaimed, his grin threatening to split his face in half.

If only.

" _I said as much on our way here. No one listens to me anymore_." Arthur rolled his eyes. " _I need someone to keep an eye on him today, and if worse comes to worst, I know you will be able to protect yourself_." He pulled the stopper from the wide, but short glass container and put his finger inside. When he brought it out, it was covered in a thick, cream coloured substance.

" _Yes, but I thought you may have been imagining it. But that very much sounds like a language. I wish I knew what he was saying_."

" _I spent all of the previous evening trying to communicate with him. My notes are on my desk, if you want to read through them_." Arthur pressed his finger against Merlin's wound. Oddly enough, the substance on it didn't sting. There was a slight cooling sensation, and it seemed a bit sticky, but it wasn't causing him any outright pain, not even when Arthur carefully started rubbing it into Merlin's injury.

Merlin shivered with pleasure when Arthur accidentally dislodged one of the damaged scales.

" _Did I hurt you_?" Arthur asked, looking up at him.

" _Didn't look like pain to me_ ," Gwaine chimed in, watching Merlin's face closely.

Merlin looked from one of them to the other, tilting his head curiously. Then, his gaze landed on where Arthur's finger was still positioned over his injury. Maybe...

Merlin lifted his right hand slightly to bring Arthur's attention to it, then used his index finger to point toward the tail in the same way he saw Arthur point toward various items yesterday. Then, he curled and uncurled his fingers in a scratching motion.

" _You... want me to scratch your tail_?" Arthur asked, looking as confused as an octopus in the open sea. Merlin made the scratching motion again.

" _I think he wants you to remove the damaged scales_ ," Gwaine said. He walked a few steps to where Arthur was standing and reached down. Merlin held still as Gwaine’s fingers grazed another scale that was hanging on by a thread. He lifted his eyebrows in a gesture he hoped conveyed appropriate encouragement.

Gwaine was obviously much smarter than Arthur. Why in all the seas wasn't _he_ the leader of this pod of humans instead?

He shivered when the scale fell away and plopped into the water below.

"Get the rest of them off," Merlin said, smiling at Gwaine. "You wouldn't believe how annoying they are."

" _I think he sounds happy enough_ ," Gwaine said, glancing between him and Arthur. He was very quickly making his way into Merlin's good graces. Astonishingly quickly, considering that he was one of the people that enslaved him and put him in this position in the first place. " _You want to continue this, or should I_?"

" _I'll do it_ ," Arthur grumbled. He sounded annoyed, though Merlin wasn't sure why.

"Can you get the rest of the scales now or are you two going to stand there looking like a pair of garden eels?" Merlin interjected, huffing. With a sigh, Arthur turned his attention back to Merlin's tail. Soon enough, the remaining scales that had been damaged by the harpoon were resting at the bottom of the tub and Merlin could flex his tail without the unpleasant sensation of something dangling from his skin. "Much better."

" _Stop moving so that I can put the salve on_ ," Arthur muttered, glowering at him.

"What swam up your arse and died?" Merlin asked him, adding in a glower of his own for good measure. He didn't move when Arthur scooped more of that oily substance from the vial and slathered it all over Merlin's injury, making sure to also spread it over all the spots the scales had fallen away from. Once that was done, Arthur placed a small, white square of loosely woven cloth on top of the area, then grabbed another roll of fabric and started winding it around Merlin's tail.

Is this what humans used instead of seaweed to patch up their wounds? He should have paid more attention to what the elderly human had done the previous day.

" _Grand. Now that we are done, I will loosen the bindings on his tail; he needs to move around. Keep an eye on him, Gwaine. I should be back in a couple of hours. If you need anything, call for Percival_." And with that, Arthur wiped off his fingers on his soaked shirt. He stood there for a moment, staring off into the distance, but he snapped out of it quickly enough, shot a glance at Merlin, then Gwaine, then Merlin _again_ , and left the room with one last annoyed huff.

"Where's he gone off to this time?"

Gwaine, as it turned out, was very much a conversationalist. Merlin barely had the time to wonder about Arthur's whereabouts before Gwaine had launched into an hour-long soliloquy, going on and on about seas know what.

" _Some of the crew aren't very fond of Arthur, you know. There's been talk, and. Well, I don't want to say there's likely to be a mutiny, but... there's likely to be a mutiny. A good amount of them are his father's men, others are just convinced he's a boy playing at being a man. From the beginning, they'd thought this whole voyage was the depth of insanity, but they were willing to go along because they were going to get paid in the end. And they will be, of course—Arthur would never go back on his word—but only if and when we make it back to England._

“ _Unfortunately, a select few of them had, over the course of the journey, come to the completely idiotic conclusion that they would be better off getting rid of Arthur and taking the ship for themselves_. _There aren't many of them mind you, but it's a tad worrying, much as I would never admit it to anyone_. _And since Arthur_ _has been spending so much of his time cooped up here, they've become a bit bolder_."

At that, Gwaine fell silent. Merlin swished his tail fin to get his attention.

" _Wasn't he supposed to loosen that rope before he left? Here, let me_." Gwaine reached for the bindings on Merlin's tail and after a few seconds of fiddling with them, they slackened.

"Oh, that's much better," Merlin moaned. "I don't suppose you have any food lying around, do you?"

" _I have no idea what you're saying, mate. You know, you're surprisingly attractive for someone halfway made of scales. If I'd seen you somewhere on the mainland, I'd have taken you to bed in a heartbeat_."

"Fish?" Merlin said, making sure to put the utmost effort into his pronunciation of the foreign word.

" _Oh, you're hungry_?" Gwaine asked. " _I'm afraid I don't have any fish on me. I have an apple, though_." Gwaine stuck his hand in one of the side openings of his breeches. " _I doubt you've ever had apples before. Can you even have apple? I guess we won't know until we find out. I'm game if you are_."

Gwaine's hand eventually re-emerged, bringing with it a spherical, red object—some sort of plant, by the looks of it. He took a knife out of the strip of leather tied at his waist and used it to cut off a slice of the thing. Merlin's mouth watered at the sweet smell. Gwaine watched him with an evaluating gaze.

" _Apple_ ," he said, gesturing towards the red plant. Merlin repeated the word and filed it away for future use. As he did, Gwaine pressed the slice into his hand. Merlin looked at it, unsure of what to do with it.

" _You're supposed to eat it_." Gwaine laughed. " _Here, look_." He cut another slice out of the apple and put it in his mouth. It made odd, crunching noises as he chewed.

After a second of deliberation, Merlin did the same.

It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. It was sweet and sour at the same time, and it was so _juicy_. The texture was a bit softer than what he was used to in terms of food—much, almost—but he cherished every little piece. When he swallowed his slice, he held out his hand for more.

"... _I can't believe it took a voyage around the world for me to find someone who properly appreciates apples_."

The food disappeared quickly. Gwaine laughed when Merlin looked at him imploringly, hoping for more.

Arthur returned when it began to grow dark, looking exhausted. Merlin, in the meantime, had had—dare he say it—fun. Obviously, he and Gwaine couldn't talk to each other, but somehow, they'd managed well enough using hand gestures. It was almost like their very own language now, even if it did consist mostly of guessing.

To be honest, in spite of his current situation, Merlin was a bit excited about learning so much about humans as a species. When he’d been younger, his mother had never let him go anywhere near the surface after the death of his father. Once he was old enough, he went despite her numerous protests, but that was mostly because there wasn’t anything as beautiful as the sun setting over the sea, and Merlin honestly couldn't help himself. Most of what he knew about humans, he'd found out by way of stories told by the elder merfolk in the pod or from investigating the wrecks of ships that had ended up on the seabed.

He _adored_ being able to learn so much. He just wished it was under better circumstances.

" _Are those... my pillows_?" Arthur asked when he caught sight of what Merlin now had underneath him. He'd never be able to thank Gwaine enough for snatching them from Arthur's nest.

" _He was uncomfortable. We changed the water in the tub as well_ ," Gwaine said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "C _onsidering the situation you've put him in, I don't think it's entirely unreasonable to treat him at least somewhat kindly_."

" _You know why I have to do this,_ Gwaine," Arthur said, eyes flashing dangerously. " _Don't let your feelings cloud your judgement_."

" _I don't think it's my judgement that's clouded_ ," Gwaine retorted, clenching his fists.

" _You do not know what you are talking about_." Arthur stomped across the room, not stopping until he was standing nose-to-nose with Gwaine. " _You have no idea what it means to me, to have undeniable proof that merfolk exist_!"

" _You found your proof—congratulations! And now_ Merlin _is going to be the one to suffer for it. You know what they'll do to him if you bring him back_ ," Gwaine said, keeping his voice low and quiet, almost as if he was afraid of Merlin overhearing, never mind that he didn’t speak their language. " _He's a living being. He's... he's not human, no, but he's not some sort of animal! You claim you're against slavery and indenture, and yet the future you're giving him is no better_."

" _You came into this room thinking that merfolk are no better than fish, and you come out convinced they are almost as human as us_ ," Arthur snarled. " _And all right, maybe they are intelligent beings, but despite all of that, this is something that I need to do_!"

" _You'll want to watch yourself, Captain. That sort of talk is precisely why there's been talk of mutiny_." And with that, Gwaine stalked out of the room, leaving Merlin alone with Arthur.

"Guess it's just the two of us, then," Merlin muttered.

The next day brought with it a bit of excitement. It looked like Arthur had arranged for someone to build him something much larger than the little thing he was currently stuck in. This one, apparently, had some sort of padded bench on the inside and enough water for Merlin to submerge himself completely—which was entirely unexpected, and yet very much appreciated. He honestly hadn't thought he'd have the chance to do so again.

Granted, Arthur had switched the ropes on his wrists into some odd, metal things called _shackles_ , which had _chains_ attached to them. They were much, much heavier than the former, but at least these were long and sturdy enough that Arthur decided to allow Merlin free range within the tub, which was twice as long and about as wide as Arthur's nest—sorry, _bed_.

Despite the discomfort, he'd take shackles over ropes any day. This way, he could splash Arthur with water whenever he annoyed him. Which, as luck would have it, was often. Arthur’s personality left much to be desired.

The tub was big enough that it had to be assembled in Arthur's cabin. The banging of the _hammer_ whenever it hit the _nails_ really annoyed Arthur, if the way he kept massaging his temples was anything to go by. Personally, Merlin didn't mind it too much. He might not be used to this amount of noise, what with things usually being reasonably quiet down at the bottom of the sea, but his curiosity outweighed his slight anxiety over the racket a man named Elyan was making.

It was breath-taking to see him create something out of nothing. When Elyan had started, all he’d had were some planks of wood, slabs of shiny metal, a hammer, and nails. A few hours later, he magically transformed all of that into an object capable of holding water.

Merlin appreciated what Elyan had done for him, despite it likely having been at Arthur's request.

Arthur himself, on the other hand, had become much quieter since his probably-argument with Gwaine. Merlin had gotten used to seeing him excited and curious in regards to him, but now, on the third day of his captivity, Arthur seemed to have grown uneasy. He looked at Merlin sometimes, when he didn't think Merlin was paying him any attention, and he seemed despondent, like he was having second thoughts.

Arthur's apparent regret over his actions became all the more apparent when he caught Merlin crying in the middle of the night.

Merlin had hoped that now that he had some more cover, some freedom of movement, he would be afforded at least some small amount of privacy. He hadn't been able to help the tears—there were no distractions in the night, nothing else to occupy his thoughts—but until Arthur padded over to the tub, dressed in nothing more than his nightclothes, Merlin had thought he'd been keeping his sobs down to a minimum.

When he saw Arthur, standing over him, his hand hovering above Merlin's shoulder, he turned away. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Arthur said after a few minutes of watching Merlin attempting to stifle his sobs. " _I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you_."

Steadfastly keeping his gaze on the wood in front of him, Merlin said nothing. When Arthur moved to touch him, Merlin ducked under the water to keep out of reach.

" _I'm sorry_ ," Arthur repeated, sounding surprisingly distressed about Merlin's current state. " _I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, but it's important. More important than either one of our lives. My people need to know that your kind exists. My father needs to know that your kind exists_."

Merlin ducked his head in the hopes that it would make Arthur go away, but he just kept speaking. What was it about these humans continuously talking to things that couldn't understand them?

" _He told me that my mother drowned during the storm, but I distinctly remember someone bringing her back to the remains of our ship and laying her out on a piece of driftwood. The waves took me under again, and by the time I managed to swim back to the surface, the creature who had brought her back was nowhere to be seen and my father was cradling her dead body_."

Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath.

" _I do not think he killed her—what would have been the point, when she was already dying? He must have been trying to save her life. I told my father what I saw, but he refused to believe me. He still does not believe me, though I suppose I cannot fault him for that._

 _"If there was any other way, I would not be keeping you here at all. I know you cannot understand me, but I am sorrier than you could possibly know about causing you such pain_."

When Merlin didn't move again, Arthur sighed and started walking away.

" _Sleep, Merlin. Tomorrow is a new day_."

Before he knew it, a month had passed. Most of Merlin’s days were spent in Arthur's presence—Arthur, who had taken to _sketching_ him using those white papers and something called _charcoal_. Arthur, who had been teaching Merlin his language, who had, in turn, been learning _Merlin's_ language in order for them to be able to communicate. Arthur, who's gaze had recently started lingering on Merlin's face for a bit too long.

Merlin was in the same boat. Some days, he wasn't able to stop looking at Arthur either.

Arthur... he wasn't a _bad_ person, per se. Just a horribly misguided one. From what Merlin had been able to learn and/or figure out, Arthur had put his entire reputation on the line to prove that merfolk exist, not to mention he'd severely strained his relationship with his father. To Merlin, it sometimes seemed that gaining his father’s approval was more important to Arthur than proving the existence of another intelligent species.

He was friendly enough, even if he could, at times, be socially awkward and easy to anger. He wasn't entirely unattractive for a human, either. Truth be told, had Arthur been a merman and the situation drastically different, Merlin would have been all over him ages ago.

Gwaine, on the other hand, had quickly transformed into something of a friend. Whenever Arthur was gone, needing to tend to matters on the ship, Gwaine came by to keep him company, and also to teach him some very specific insults that he knew would annoy Arthur.

Merlin appreciated it. Calling Arthur names never failed to rile him up.

He didn't often get many visitors, seeing as he was perpetually stuck in the captain's quarters, but sometimes, when neither Arthur nor Gwaine were available, he'd end up in the company of a tall man named Percival that Merlin recognised from his first day aboard the ship. Despite him not being very talkative, Merlin found himself feeling oddly safe in his presence.

Elyan came over every so often as well. His visits were the most fun, because he'd always end up showing Merlin how to make things from nothing— _craft_ was the word he’d used—just like how he'd made the tub. Humans were surprisingly inventive creatures. Merlin especially appreciated Elyan for his ability to create odd little land animals by folding paper. At the beginning, Arthur had been reluctant to let them waste his precious writing material on a matter so trivial, but Merlin soon learnt that his own pleading gaze could have Arthur eating out of the palm of his hand.

Not that Arthur did. He maintained a healthy respect for Merlin's claws. It may or may not have had something to do with the fact that once, when he'd been in an absolutely horrid mood, Merlin had threatened—in _English_!—to use them to do _incredibly_ painful things to Arthur. Arthur hadn't looked the same at them since.

Sometimes, a man named Leon came by the cabin. He always shot Merlin a small smile when he saw him, but didn't pay him much attention besides that. From what Merlin understood, Leon was pretty much running the ship for Arthur these days, since Arthur spent most of his time cooped up in his cabin. Which, in turn, seemed to be cause for his continued arguments with Gwaine.

Gwaine wasn’t quite able to explain the meaning of the word _mutiny_ to Merlin, but he claimed that if it happened, it would be a very, _very_ bad thing. Thinking back to the bloodthirsty human who’d driven a harpoon through his tail, Merlin decided to believe him.

The injury had healed over time. Arthur no longer needed to change the bandages on it anymore now that it had turned bright pink. Even the scales around it had started growing back. That, apparently, was something that fascinated Arthur to no end.

" _They just... grow back?_ " he'd asked, bewildered, the first time he'd caught sight of them.

" _Yes, they grow back_ ," Merlin had replied. " _Always_."

He still wasn't sure where Arthur's fascination had come from. Surely his skin, hair, and nails did the same thing? Surely, he'd seen it happen to fish or those odd, scaly land creatures they called reptiles.

In the end, Merlin had been forced to use his tail fin to fling water at Arthur to get him to tear his eyes away.

Now that Merlin was sure he'd be able to move around and swim without too much of an issue, he made sure to keep his eyes wide open for any opportunities to escape. He’d long since concluded that the best time to try it would be in the middle of the night, when most of the humans aboard the ship—including Arthur himself—were asleep. He might not be able to see much in the dark, but neither would they.

The only thing stopping him from leaving were the cuffs around his wrists and the chains they were attached to. Even if Merlin did manage to remove the metal from where it was attached to the wall, he'd be left lugging its weight around with him. Considering he would likely have trouble getting his _own_ weight off the ship, he'd binned that idea quickly.

That left three possibilities.

One—he could steal one of the tools Elyan sometimes brought over and break the chains near his wrists.

Two—he could pick the locks on the cuffs using some sort of odd, long, metal stick (which, unfortunately, was something he hadn’t gotten hold of thus far) and free himself from them completely. Sadly, he had yet to figure out all of this lock-picking business, because the one time Elyan had mentioned it, he'd slapped a hand over his mouth and gone quiet for the next few minutes.

Or three—he could convince Gwaine to help. Much to Merlin's chagrin, this was probably the method most likely to be successful. He knew Gwaine had taken a shine to him and disagreed with the idea of keeping him captive, and he also knew that Gwaine didn't mind getting on Arthur's bad side if the cause was just.

But then again, he could just as well turn around and tell Arthur all about how Merlin was hatching escape plans.

Maybe he would put out feelers tomorrow, see exactly how Gwaine felt about keeping others locked up against their will. Arthur had mentioned something about docking soon, in some town off the coast of wherever in order to pick up both supplies for the crew as well as cargo to transport back to England. Presumably, that most of the crew would follow him onto land, leaving the ship mostly empty. If Merlin could convince Gwaine to help him out of the chains, he'd be off the ship and far out to sea before any of the remaining sailors woke up from their alcohol-induced stupor.

He'd miss Arthur and his other not-quite-friends, but losing them would be a small price to pay for freedom. If all went well, he'd be back in the ocean in a matter of days. And then, he'd find his way back home and see his family and friends again.

Merlin didn't have to wait all that long for Gwaine to come by again. Gwaine seemed to visit him almost on a daily basis, which Merlin suspected was Arthur’s idea. He'd been leaving his cabin more and more often lately, except unlike in the beginning, he seemed unwilling to leave Merlin alone, despite Merlin's numerous reassurances that he would be absolutely fine on his own.

Did he suspect that Merlin was planning to escape from this ship once and for all? Or did Arthur simply not want him to feel lonely? Humans were so hard to read sometimes.

In any case, as expected, Gwaine arrived the day after Merlin had made up his mind about asking him for help. Which was easier said than done, considering he didn't actually speak much English—there's only so much one can learn in the span of a month, after all. Merlin may have learnt many new words over the course of the voyage, but he tended to butcher even the simplest of grammar, which frustrated Arthur to no end.

" _Hello, Gwaine,_ " Merlin said, grinning up at the man who'd just plopped himself down in a seat positioned next to Merlin's tub.

" _Merlin,_ " Gwaine greeted, nodding his head at him. " _I'd ask what you've been up to since we last saw each other, but I'm afraid I already know the answer to that,_ " he gestured toward Merlin's bound self.

" _Arthur still teach me English,_ " Merlin replied, stumbling over the foreign words. At least his accent wasn't completely horrible, if the fact that the humans mostly understood him was anything to go by.

" _Arthur is still teaching me English,_ " Gwaine corrected, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a fond smile. " _I can see you're getting better, though. First time I saw you, I didn't even think you knew how to speak_."

Merlin glared at him, and he kept glaring until Gwaine mumbled out a sheepish apology.

" _You try speak Mermish_ ," Merlin retorted. " _Then we see who not know how to speak_."

" _All right, all right. You've made your point._ " Gwaine leant back into his chair and lifted his legs, hooking his ankles over the edge of the tub. The position would make it all too easy for Merlin to pull him in and drown him, should he choose to.

But he didn't choose to. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd grown a bit attached. Besides, he needed Gwaine's help if he was to ever get off this seas forsaken ship.

" _I need talk to you,_ " Merlin whispered, keeping one eye on the door in case anyone came in. He licked his lips nervously.

" _What about?_ " Gwaine asked. After a beat, the smile started slipping from his face, only to be replaced by a sombre grimace, almost as if he already knew what Merlin was about to ask of him. His boots landed back on the floor with a loud thud.

" _You are my friend, yes?"_ Merlin asked; he'd long ago learnt that a little emotional manipulation could go a long way, and this was very important.

" _I'd like to think so, yes_ ," Gwaine said, lips thinning.

It was now or never.

" _Help me leave,_ " Merlin pleaded, turning to look Gwaine in the eye. " _Please._ "

Whatever joy had been left in Gwaine's expression seemed to drain away at Merlin's words.

" _I can't_ ," he said, refusing to meet Merlin's gaze. " _I want to, but I can't. I'm so sorry, but I can't betray Arthur like that. He's got enough of that going around lately._ "

Merlin didn't dare look away from Gwaine.

" _Please,_ " he begged, voice breaking on the last syllable. He blinked away the tears of disappointment threatening to fall from his eyes. " _Please help me."_

 _"I'm sorry, Merlin_ ," Gwaine said, burying his head in his hands. " _I want to help you. You have no idea how much I want to help you. I just can't_."

The whimper that Merlin had been trying to hold back finally broke free, and Gwaine turned his face away. He brushed his hand through his hair, the movement jerky and speaking of regret, but he didn't change his mind. He didn't look at Merlin again, as Merlin hoped he would. Instead, he suddenly got up and stalked out of the room.

Merlin sank back into the water, more dejected than ever before. There was no hope now, was there? He couldn't escape without help.

He didn't quite manage to stop the tears before they fell.

In Arthur’s cabin, Merlin was surrounded by what could be called ‘good’ humans. He’d almost forgotten about the ruthless men who had fished him out of the sea and speared his tail.

They decided to remind Merlin of their presence a few days after his disheartening conversation with Gwaine.

" _So this is the thing that's got the Captain locked up in his room. I have to admit, I expected something a bit... more._ "

The loud words had Merlin startling awake. He floundered for a second, but soon put himself to rights and peeked up above the water. Surprisingly, instead of any of his sort-of-friends or Arthur, he found himself starting at the faces of two strangers. They were both tall, one slim where the other was burly. Like most of the sailors Merlin had seen, the darker colour of their skin and bleached hair was proof of their prolonged exposure to the sun.

 _Un_ like most of the sailors he'd seen, they didn't seem at all amiable, not with the malicious grins spread across their faces.

Merlin found himself wishing he'd put more effort into trying to understand Arthur's language.

" _Heard it has a name, too. People keep going around and calling it_ 'Merlin'. _Load of bollocks, if you ask me. Probably heard it making noise and decided that must mean it's got some smarts_ ," said the slim one. His curly hair bounced above his shoulders as he laughed when Merlin tried to back away from them.

 _"Doubt it's any more intelligent than a fish_ ," said the other. He reached out with one hand and grabbed Merlin's face. " _Doesn't look like much._ "

Merlin tore himself out of the man's grasp and snapped at him with his teeth. Unfortunately, Burly reacted in time and managed to get away with all of his fingers intact.

" _It's feisty_!" he laughed. " _Maybe the Captain's keeping it nearby for the entertainment_!" Burly let his hand hover near the tub, as if daring Merlin to make another go at it. Merlin wasn't fooled. Burly had definitely noticed exactly how much freedom Merlin’s chains allowed him.

" _Do you think it feels pain?_ " asked Slim with a curious lilt in his voice. Merlin may not have understood half of what he'd said, but the gleam in Slim's eyes was enough to convince him that it couldn't be anything good.

Seas, where was Arthur when Merlin needed him?

" _I don't know_ ," Burly replied. " _Why don't we find out?_ "

They retreated for a bit, but soon enough they were standing in front of the tub again, knives in their hands. The metal blades glistened dangerously in the sunlight coming in through the porthole.

" _You grab that chain, I'll get this one. We'll reel it in, make sure it won't be able to get those nasty claws in the way,_ " said Slim

They started pulling on the chains keeping Merlin's hands bound. He struggled against them, blood freezing in his veins, but he was no match for two seasoned sailors and soon found himself half-pulled over the edge of the tub, with the wood of it cutting painfully into his belly.

Any second now, Merlin’s heart was going to pound its way right out of his ribcage. Would anyone come help him if he screamed? Or would they merely stand around and watch, take pleasure from seeing his pain?

Slim let his gaze travel down Merlin's body, eyes turning into slits as he tried to decide where to begin. As they landed on Merlin's forearm—the upper part of it, which was partially covered in scales and topped off with a fin—he let his hold on the chain loosen. Merlin, sensing that he wouldn't get an opportunity like this again, lunged forward, intent on sinking his teeth into the man's throat, consequences be damned.

Before he could get anywhere near him, however, his body was pulled to the side and something hard struck his face. He reeled back—as much as he _could_ reel back—and attempted to blink out of his eyes the little white spots clouding his vision. The left side of his face pulsed with pain, especially the area surrounding his eye.

And seas, his eye! For a moment, he was flooded with fear that he'd never be able to see out of it again, but gradually, as he was firmly pulled back to the edge of the tub, his vision cleared up.

Merlin found himself face to face with Slim, whose mouth was twisted into a snarl.

" _You little piece of filth!_ " he yelled. Merlin scrunched his eyes to shield them from the spittle flying from Slim’s mouth. " _You mangy little cockroach!_ "

His face was positioned right in front of Merlin's and, well. Merlin never _had_ been of the sort to take abuse lying down.

He spit in Slim's face.

It landed on his temple, then slid down his cheek. Seeing the furious expression on Slim's face made the punch he was about to get completely worth it. Merlin tensed his muscles in preparation.

Except.

Except it didn't come to that, because that very moment was when Arthur decided to barge back into his quarters. Never before in his life had Merlin been so happy to see a human.

" _What the devil is going on here?!_ " Arthur shouted, eyes flitting from one crewman to the other, then Merlin between them, and finally—the knives in their hands.

" _Captain_ ," Burly said, taking half a step back. " _We were just—_ "

Arthur didn't let him finish, hands clenching at his sides in anger.

" _Just about to torture the very creature we have spent months—months!—looking for!_ " he shouted " _What in God's name is the matter with you?!_ "

Suddenly, Merlin was released. He retreated into the far corner and ducked underwater, making sure to keep the top of his head above the surface so that he could watch the proceedings. The cool water soothed his throbbing cheek.

Arthur snarled, then turned away and stuck his head through the door.

" _Leon! Percival!_ " he called, keeping one eye on the two men in the room. " _Please escort these_ "—he spat—" _fine gentlemen to the brig. They're to get five lashes each, then spend a few nights in the cells_." Arthur looked back at the two men. " _You are welcome to tell the rest of the crew that if anyone else tries something, I will not hesitate to have them keelhauled._ "

He moved aside to let Leon and Percival into the room and watched dispassionately as the two men that had been tormenting Merlin were hauled away. As soon as everyone had gone and the door shut behind them, Arthur ran up to Merlin and dropped to his knees.

" _Are you alright?_ " he asked, the tone of his voice giving away his concern. " _They didn't hurt you too badly, did they?"_

Merlin blinked up at him, but made no attempt to get closer.

" _Hurt?_ " Arthur tried again. He sighed in relief when Merlin shook his head, but the worry was back when he caught sight of Merlin's face. " _They hit you_ ," Arthur said tonelessly. " _Your face, it's bruising. I... I'll go get Gaius. He should have something to help keep the swelling down._ "

Arthur got up, and sparing one last, concerned look at Merlin, he turned away. Not five steps later, Merlin's quiet whimper stopped him in his tracks.

" _No go_ ," Merlin mumbled in broken English. He tried not to show how scared he was to be left alone again, but judging by the look on Arthur's face, his expression must have given him away. " _Stay_ ," he pleaded, all pride suddenly gone. He was shaking so hard he felt fit to fly apart.

Arthur looked at him for a few seconds longer, searching, but then did as Merlin asked. He walked back over to the tub and sank to his knees again, then carefully extended a hand to Merlin.

Merlin let his gaze flit from it to Arthur's face, unsure if this was Arthur's attempt at offering comfort or maybe something _worse_ —something like what the other humans had done. It took him a bit, but in the end, Merlin decided to take the risk. He reached out his own hand and grasped Arthur's, making sure not to let his claws accidentally dig into Arthur's skin.

He couldn't help the sob that wormed its way out of his throat, and before he knew it, tears were flowing down his cheeks. Arthur looked at him, crestfallen, then lightly tugged on Merlin's hand to urge him closer.

Merlin went.

Arthur's other arm wound itself around Merlin's back and he tugged Merlin's face into the crook of his neck. It was a risk, having Merlin's teeth so close to his jugular. For maybe half a second, Merlin entertained the thought of sinking his fangs into it and ripping it out, leaving Arthur to die on the floor in front of him, but the thought left as soon as it came.

He didn't want to hurt Arthur, not anymore. Not now that he'd actually gotten to know him. Instead, Merlin let Arthur fold him into a hug, uncaring of the fact that his clothes were getting soaked through. He buried his face into Arthur's shoulder and let himself be comforted.

" _What happened to you, mate?_ " Gwaine asked when he came by the following day. When Gwaine reached out to touch the bruise, Merlin flinched back.

" _Humans happened_ ," Merlin replied, refusing to make eye contact with him. " _Arthur tell you_."

" _Arthur hasn't told me anything_ ," Gwaine said, bewildered. He seemed torn between reaching out for Merlin again and leaving to get his hands on Arthur

Merlin knew how he looked; he was constantly surrounded by water—it was impossible to avoid seeing his own reflection. Yesterday, the bruise had been nothing more than a spot of red high on his cheekbone, right up against his eye socket. Overnight, the red had changed into a deep purple, and it pained Merlin whenever he so much as let a facial muscle twitch.

It was part of the reason he didn't want to be talking to Gwaine right now. The other part was that he was harbouring a not-so-small amount of animosity towards him after their previous conversation.

" _I mean ask Arthur,"_ Merlin said, turning his back on Gwaine so that he wouldn't have to see his face. " _Arthur knows_."

" _Well, mate, the Captain isn't here now, is he?_ " Gwaine dropped his hand back to his side and collapsed against a nearby wall. " _Who did this to you?"_

 _"I not know names. Sailors. Not see them before_ ," Merlin grumbled. " _Wanted to see me hurt."_

 _"I reckon they did more than want, judging by the look of you,_ " Gwaine said. He was quiet for a moment, but then reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple. " _I was going to save this for the evening, but looks like you need it more than I do._ "

Merlin caught the apple as Gwaine tossed it at him. He let his eyes flit between it and Gwaine a few times until Gwaine nodded his head towards the fruit, silently urging Merlin to bite into it. The sweet taste of it was worth the pain caused by opening his mouth so wide.

" _I'd give you a knife so you could cut it into pieces, but you know—"_ Gwaine waved his hand through the air " _—can't be giving you any more weapons._ "

" _No knives_ ," Merlin agreed. He'd seen enough of those to last a lifetime.

Gwaine let him finish eating the apple in peace, even if he _did_ make an odd face when he saw Merlin devour the core as well.

" _I'm sorry I wasn't there_ ," Gwaine murmured when Merlin swallowed down the last bite. He kept his eyes firmly on the floor at his feet. " _I should have been there._ "

" _You should helped me escape,_ " Merlin amended, licking the remaining juice off his fingers. No point in letting it go to waste. " _Cannot be hurt if not here._ "

" _I_..." Gwaine trails off. " _You know I can't_."

Saying the words seemed to pain him. Gwaine clenched his jaw so hard that Merlin could have sworn he heard some of his teeth crack.

" _Can_ ," Merlin insisted. Gwaine still didn't meet his eyes, so Merlin pushed on. " _Help. Please. Cannot live here_."

Upon hearing him, Gwaine deflated. He lifted his eyes from the floor and met Merlin's gaze. Quietly, he let his eyes roam over Merlin's person, lingering on the painful bruise on the side of his face.

" _I can't betray Arthur like that_ ," he whispered, looking at Merlin helplessly. " _He's... I can't do that to him_."

" _You are my friend, too_ ," Merlin insisted, voice low and pleading. He clenched his fists so tight that his claws broke through the skin. The cuts stung, but they were nothing compared to the pain in his heart. " _Cannot let me die_. _Please._ "

Gwaine must have realised the truth of what Merlin was telling him because all the breath seemed to leave his lungs at once. He ran his fingers through his hair, defeated.

" _All right. I'll help_."

Merlin spent most of the night worrying about whether or not Gwaine would go back on his word once left to his own devices. Thankfully, he showed up bright and early the next morning with a half-smile on his face. Merlin hesitantly smiled back.

Arthur had yet to leave; he'd had one of the chefs bring breakfast for Merlin and himself, but he'd spent most of the morning anxiously moving his food around the plate. He didn't tell Merlin what was troubling him, and even if he had, Merlin doubted he'd manage to understand. Arthur had looked at Merlin eventually, seen how Merlin's eyes were fixed on his meal and smiled that soft little half-smile he seemed to be wearing around Merlin more and more often. With a quiet sigh, he'd given Merlin his mostly untouched meal.

If there was one thing Merlin was going to miss once he was back home, it would be human food. His kind—merfolk—they didn't use things like _seasonings_. Their meat was eaten raw, sometimes accompanied by whatever seaweed the fingerlings had managed to scrounge up. There was no such thing as _cooking_ or _frying_ or _roasting_ or _baking_ —although frankly, Merlin had yet to figure out the difference between them.

Arthur had once brought him a piece of something called _cake_. It had tasted heavenly. Merlin would miss the taste of _cinnamon_ and _nutmeg_. He should try to convince Arthur to bring him another piece sometime soon, before Merlin... _left_.

Ran away. Escaped.

In any case, Merlin got the rest of Arthur's _grilled_ fish and some potatoes. He was still eating it when Gwaine arrived.

Gwaine and Arthur made small talk as Arthur got dressed in that navy-blue coat of his and put his sword in the sheath at his belt. The second Arthur was out the door, goodbye thrown over his shoulder almost as an afterthought, Gwaine sat down in the chair at Merlin's side.

" _I hate lying to him_."

Merlin hummed noncommittally, tail swishing through the water as he chewed on his mouthful of fish. Gwaine occupied himself with staring at Merlin's hands as he ate. When Merlin finished and passed him the plate, Gwaine sighed.

" _Arthur probably told you that we'll be docking soon. He wants to make a stop to pick up some spices to bring back to England to trade so that this trip isn't a complete waste of money."_

Merlin blinked at him uncomprehendingly and Gwaine sighed again.

" _We will stop soon, near land. I will help you escape then, at night_ ," he said, making sure to enunciate each word slowly. " _I have tools to get the cuffs off, and I can carry you out of here, but we will need something to distract Arthur so that he won't be here when the time comes._ "

Merlin nodded to show that he understood.

" _Grand_ ," Gwaine said, mouth tilting up in a small half-smile. " _I can't tell you how to get back home, though. You'll have to figure that out on your own. Try swimming in the direction the sun rises._ "

" _I will get home._ " Merlin nodded solemnly. "And then I'm never going near the surface again," he added under his breath in Mermish. Gwaine looked at him oddly, but didn't comment. It was just as well that he didn't understand what Merlin was saying. He'd never be able to insult Gwaine again. " _We have deal?_ "

" _We have a deal."_


	2. Chapter 2

The day before they were meant to dock was hectic. Everyone had somewhere to be: Gwaine, Elyan, Percival—even Leon. After the attack, Arthur had taken to keeping at least one of them with Merlin constantly. Coincidentally, he also seemed to have made himself scarce. The only thing he did in his cabin nowadays was sleep and eat. Merlin honestly hadn't thought that he would miss talking to him this much.

It was a bit sad. Here he was, longing for the attention of the human who'd captured him. If all those months ago anyone had told him that would happen, he would have laughed in their faces.

He supposed he would have to get used to not seeing Arthur sooner rather than later. It wasn’t as though Merlin would ever lay eyes on him again once he got off this ship. He could, perhaps, take something of Arthur's with him. As a keepsake, to remind him of this turbulent time in his life. He could ask Gwaine to snatch one of those glimmering, metal buttons off Arthur's coat. That should be able to keep for a while despite being underwater.

Or he could steal Arthur's ring, the one he wore on his index finger. Maybe that would last longer.

" _Are you all right, Merlin_?"

Merlin whirled around to find Arthur standing in the doorway. He was smiling, but it was a tired smile. Merlin didn't like this smile.

Seas. He'd grown attached to a human. What had his life come to?

" _I'm fine_ ," Merlin replied with a frown. He moved to the edge of the tub, closer to Arthur; the tension eased from his shoulders when he saw Arthur do the same.

" _I..._ " Arthur started to say. He broke off and cleared his throat before trying again. " _I was wondering if perhaps there was anything you would like from the city. We are docking tomorrow, so I will be spending some time on land. I was wondering if you would like me to buy you something_. “

Merlin blinked at him, trying to understand what Arthur said.

" _What is ‘buy’_?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

" _Oh. Oh! It's like trading. Someone has something you want, so you give them coins for it_ ," Arthur explained, smiling at him fondly. " _Is there anything you want_?"

" _I... I do not know_ ," Merlin said. Truthfully, he _didn't_ know much about human items, and those he did know of he didn't feel immediately drawn to. Besides, it wasn't as though he would be around long enough for Arthur to actually give him whatever he found. " _You pick something_?"

" _I shall pick something for you, then_ ," Arthur agreed. He reached out towards Merlin's face—so close that his fingers almost skimmed Merlin's cheek—but was interrupted by Gwaine bursting into the room and startling them both.

" _Captain! Percival said he needed to see you in the cargo hold. Something about needing to determine how much we can fit without sinking the bloody ship_." It was only once he stopped talking that Gwaine's eyes darted between them, clearly taking in how close they were to each other. " _Am I interrupting something_?"

" _No_ ," Arthur said, voice cracking. " _No. I was just about to leave anyway. Stay with Merlin for now, keep him company. I will be back as soon as I am able_."

With that, Arthur turned on his heel and left, pushing past Gwaine on his way out of the cabin. The second he was gone, Gwaine’s eyes landed on Merlin, narrowed in thought.

" _What was that about_?"

" _Nothing_ ," Merlin replied, sinking down below the water. "Nothing at all."

The night was quiet. Most of the crew had long since gone ashore, eager to spend a few hours with women in their beds. Only a few people were left among the ship to guard it and the valuables aboard it—among them Gwaine, Percival, and Arthur, who had barely been gone from the ship for an hour before he’d returned.

Merlin and Gwaine had prepared for this. Gwaine was meant to cause a distraction to get Arthur out of his cabin, more importantly, to have him stay out for as long as possible so that Gwaine would have time to get Merlin out of the shackles and off the ship.

It hadn't been easy, coming up with a suitable distraction. It needed to be something that would keep Arthur away for a while, but nothing that would endanger those on the ship. At least, that was where Gwaine drew the line. Merlin wouldn't have been opposed to the deaths of a few select individuals, but he didn't say anything in the dear that it would change Gwaine's mind.

In the end, they settled for—

" _Captain!_ _There’s a brawl!_ ” Gwaine shouted, crashing into the room in a flurry of limbs and unfairly shiny hair. Arthur scrambled to his feet the second the words were out of Gwaine's mouth.

" _What? Who is it?_ " Arthur asked, reaching for his long coat and the pistol lying on his desk.

" _Same men you let out of the brig last night_ ," Gwaine said, moving aside to let him out of the room. He locked eyes with Merlin as Arthur brushed past him on his way out. With an almost imperceptible nod, they were both gone, and Merlin was left alone.

He didn't like being alone anymore, not since the attack. Realistically, he knew that Gwaine would be back within seconds once he'd left Arthur to sort out whatever mess he'd created—something about one of the men having propositioned the other's sweetheart back home. Merlin wasn't sure if there was any truth to it, but the diversion should serve to keep Arthur away for enough time for Gwaine to get Merlin back into the sea.

True to his word, barely a minute had passed before Gwaine returned, red-faced and panting. Merlin found himself returning his grin in spite of his nerves.

" _Let's get you out of here_ ," Gwaine said, removing something from his pocket. He made quick work of the chains around Merlin's wrists. When they dropped to the bottom of the tub, Merlin stretched his arms out in front of him, revelling in the freedom. His wrists were a bit sore and scratched up, but that was to be expected. The injuries shouldn’t be too much of a hindrance.

He wasn’t sure what the situation was with his tail. It looked as though it had healed well enough and it didn't hurt anymore, but that was here, in his tub. That could change quickly once Merlin was back in the ocean and racing through the water. He _definitely_ wouldn't be able to handle swimming a longer distance, and it might make it harder to catch food if he couldn't keep up with his prey.

At least hopefully, the sea floor wasn't that far away. He'd probably be stuck eating starfish and seaweed until he managed to find his way back home. It wasn't his favourite food, but he supposed he didn't really have another choice. Better starfish than starving to death. He should probably grab a few of them while he was near the coast and close to the seabed. Swimming near the ocean floor in the open sea was asking for trouble.

" _Come on, up you get_."

Merlin raised his arms up and allowed Gwaine to lift him out of the water. He wound up cradled in Gwaine's arms, with one of them under the bend of his tail and the other supporting his back. Hesitantly, Merlin tucked himself into Gwaine’s chest to keep from overbalancing them.

" _Thank you_ ," he whispered into Gwaine's ear, doing his best to keep his voice from breaking. " _I not know how to repay this._ "

" _No repaying necessary_." Gwaine smiled at him softly. " _Just get back home safely. Don't let this exercise be for nothing_."

Merlin buried his face into the crook of Gwaine's neck and nodded.

The ship was quiet—not that Merlin knew exactly how loud it usually was, what with constantly being locked up in Arthur's cabin, but there seemed to be less noise than usual. They didn't come across anyone in the corridors either, which they were grateful for. Merlin would probably be able to kill anyone they stumbled upon quickly enough, but he sincerely doubted that Gwaine would thank him for it, and seas forbid he did anything to anger Gwaine when he could still change his mind. Merlin might be the closest he's been to freedom in a while, but Gwaine could still reconsider and take him right back to where he'd been.

Merlin _liked_ Gwaine. He didn't want to kill Gwaine. If worse came to worst, he didn't think he'd be able to, just like he wouldn't have been able to kill Arthur.

The thought of Arthur brought with it a pang deep in his chest. Merlin would never see him again. He hadn't even managed to get that button he'd wanted so that he could have something to remember him by. He had _nothing_.

He shouldn't be thinking of Arthur at a time like this. Merlin couldn't let himself become distracted, not now. Not when he was _this close_ to being free.

Gwaine snuck through the ship like a thief in the night, quickly and quietly. Every once in a while, his grip on Merlin would start to slip and they'd waste precious time as he fixed it. Never before had Merlin thought that constantly being wet could be a _bad_ thing.

One time, they had to hide in an empty room when they heard footsteps and barely managed to avoid them. The close call left both he and Gwaine more than a bit shaken. Once the footsteps receded, Gwaine picked up his pace, cursing Arthur for having picked the _one_ cabin that required walking through half the ship to get to.

They made it out eventually. The briny sea air was something Merlin never thought he'd taste again. He took a deep breath, and then another, revelling in the taste of salt on his tongue.

Not much longer now. Not much longer, and he'd be back in the sea where he belonged. He'd be back with his family. Gwaine just needed to get him to the side of the ship and over the railing, and Merlin would be gone without a backwards glance.

That, of course, was the moment everything went wrong.

They had barely made it up the stairs when Gwaine tripped and they both went flying. Merlin crashed to the ground a few metres away from Gwaine, then rolled a bit farther. He quickly turned around and pushed himself up to his elbows, looking for Gwaine in a panic.

He was spread out on the deck right in front of the stairs—more importantly, right in front of a coil of rope someone had left lying around, nearly invisible in the barely existent moonlight. He was breathing heavily and clutching his leg.

" _Gods damn it_!" Gwaine swore under his breath, eyes flitting around wildly until they finally rested on Merlin. " _Go_ ," he whispered, motioning to the side of the ship. " _Someone will have heard the noise; you don't have much time. Go_!"

Merlin hesitated, eyes darting from Gwaine to the ocean barely visible beyond the railings. He turned around to do as Gwaine asked and make a bid towards freedom, but a pained grunt stopped him in his tracks.

It was right there, the ocean. Merlin’s freedom. It was right there, right in front of him. It was so close he could _taste_ it.

In the end, it was no choice at all. Merlin turned around and dragged himself back to Gwaine, ignoring the man’s heated protests. His fall must have been bad; Gwaine's lips were white with agony and he was trembling, grasping at the area that was paining him. There was no blood, thank the seas, so at least Merlin didn't have to worry about watching Gwaine bleed out in front of him.

If Merlin had to guess, Gwaine probably has a sprained ankle—assuming, of course, that ankles _could_ be sprained. Wrists could. He may not know much about having legs, but it stood to reason they could suffer from similar injuries.

Gwaine’s injury wasn't life-threatening. There was still time to make it off the ship if he wished.

Except... if he left Gwaine, then Arthur would _know_. He'd probably manage to figure out that Gwaine was the one who helped Merlin escape, but if he found him here, he would have concrete proof and Merlin really, _really_ didn't want Gwaine to end up in trouble.

Merlin _owed_ Gwaine. He couldn't abandon him now. There was still a chance, however slim, that no one had heard them crash to the ground. If they were lucky, Merlin could help Gwaine with his ankle and leave. It wouldn't be easy to get across the deck and over the railing by himself, but if the seas allowed, he would manage.

With that thought in mind, Merlin got to work tearing off the bottom of Gwaine's shirt. The thin fabric was nothing compared to the sharpness of his claws and it gave easily. Merlin wound the strip of cloth around Gwaine's slowly swelling ankle, making sure to keep the binding tight.

That was how Arthur found them.

Never before had Merlin seen a human turn such a shade of puce, and he'd spent more time than he'd like surrounded by them.

And it wasn't just anger. When Arthur's eyes had landed on him, when he'd realised what had happened, what his crew member had _helped_ happen, he'd looked at Merlin as though he'd betrayed him.

As thought _Merlin_ had betrayed _him._

What was Merlin supposed to do about that? Did Arthur expect him to be an obedient little merman and happily live the rest of his life in a cage? Did he _actually_ think that would happen? Merlin liked to think that they knew each other better by now.

How could _anyone_ blame him for trying to run?

He just… he hoped Gwaine was all right. The last Merlin had seen of him, he was being hauled off to see Gaius, then it was straight to the brig. Merlin felt horribly guilty about that, but he supposed it was unavoidable. At least Arthur hadn't decided to punish him in any other manner. If all went well, Gwaine would be out soon. Worst case scenario, he'd lose his job on the ship and Arthur as a friend.

Which Gwaine had warned Merlin about, but the prospect hadn't been as daunting before. He knew, logically, that it was something that could happen. He'd also expected to be far, _far_ away by now, where the consequences of his actions would have no chance of reaching him.

Arthur hadn't spoken a word to Merlin since he'd found them. Not a single one. He hadn't even bothered to look in Merlin's direction when he'd ordered his men to take him back to the cabin and make sure he stayed there. It was back to the tub and chains for him, except this time, he had no one to talk to.

Percival and Leon took their cues from Arthur—neither of them would say a word to him either. They must be blaming him for what happened to Gwaine.

It was nearing dawn when Arthur finally returned to his quarters. He didn't spare Merlin a glance as he slammed the door shut behind him. His long, blue coat landed on the desk with a thud, quickly followed by the belt that held his weapons. Merlin watched him putter about the room but didn't bother speaking. What would be the point? It wasn’t as though they had anything to say to each other.

The reality that he’d failed was finally starting to hit him. He could have been on his way home by now. He could have been free. Instead, he'd missed his chance out of concern for a human.

 _Stupid_.

Merlin was just about to turn around and get some rest when Arthur finally approached him, teeth gritted and jaw tense.

" _I got this for you,_ " he said, thrusting his hand forward. When Merlin didn't move, he put what he was holding on the edge of the tub. The ring, full of beautiful, colourful stones, teetered on the edge before falling into the water with a plop. " _I wanted you to have something to remind you of me. Something you could keep._ " Arthur laughed bitterly, swiping his hand through his hair. " _I was such a fool_ ," he whispered, almost as though to himself, before turning on his heel and walking away.

The second Arthur was out of his line of sight, Merlin reached down to retrieve the ring. The tiny, brightly coloured gems set inside the silver shone brightly even in the bleak light of dawn. There was a pattern to it, he realised. The blue, the green. The way the silver twisted into shapes that ever so slightly resembled ocean waves. The art was _breath-taking_ and not something he'd ever pictured Arthur setting his eye on.

Merlin had wanted a keepsake—now he had one.

In return, he'd lost Arthur.

They left port two days later, once the ship was loaded with cargo and renewed supplies. Even Merlin could tell that it was sailing more slowly than before. He supposed this was a good thing—the longer he spent on the ship, the more time he had to figure out another way to escape.

In theory, at least. After what had happened, Arthur had taken precautions against Merlin trying to run off again. Chains and an armed guard made up of a trusted crewman was no longer enough. Now, Merlin had to put up with constantly being watched by not one, but _two_ humans, neither of which were his friends.

Or, well, whatever it was that Percival and Elyan could be considered.

Arthur had also taken to keeping him under lock and key. Once someone entered his quarters to keep an eye on Merlin, they couldn't leave unless Arthur or Leon relieved them of their duties.

Merlin didn't like the men who kept watch over him. They never actually _did_ anything—other than insult him, but that was something he could live with—opting to stare at him unnervingly. They played dice, sometimes. Or cards. Nothing that Merlin understood. Nothing they bothered trying to explain to him.

All in all, the situation was _exhausting_ , and only made worse by the fact that he had absolutely no one to talk to. After giving Merlin the ring, Arthur hadn't bothered to say another word to him. He'd barely spared him a glance since then; hadn't even bothered to bring him food, but had instead delegated the task to someone else.

The only thing Merlin took pleasure in anymore was flashing his fangs and terrifying the poor man who got saddled with that chore. Sadly, the terror didn't last long. After a few days, no one bothered to jump back when he snapped his jaws in their direction. It was a bit disappointing. Not even Percival graced him with a raise of his eyebrows anymore.

About a week after they'd set sail, the storms started. They would come out of nowhere. The intense rain would pelt the wood, thunder would hit the sea, wind would whip the sails to and fro—not that Merlin got to see that. All he had to go on was the fact that the water in his tub kept spilling over the side, whatever gossip he heard from his bodyguards, and the sounds he could hear from beyond the cabin.

The longer they sailed, the worse the storms got. All the tossing and turning of the ship slopped most of the water out of his tub, causing a few patches of itchy, blistered skin to crop up.

One afternoon, he'd been rudely awoken from a nap by a commotion out on the deck. Everyone he’d seen later that day had seemed despondent. From what little Merlin had heard and understood, some rigging had come loose and hit a man in the head. He'd lost consciousness and been tossed into the tempestuous sea before anyone had had a chance to get to him to safety.

According to Percival, it was the first death they'd had in a long while.

Coincidentally, it was the evening after that incident that everything went even more downhill. The sailors' animosity towards him seemed to have grown. While before, they had—for the most part—been content with ignoring him, now they preferred to spend most of their days shooting him increasingly hostile looks.

Merlin didn't even know what he'd done wrong.

It all came to a head when, a few days later, he heard shouts coming from the corridor beyond the door.

" _You know it's the merman's doing, Captain! He's calling forth these storms to sink the ship_!" someone shouted. Merlin didn't recognise the voice; neither did he understand the words because of how heavily accented they were. Curious, he drew himself up and moved to the edge of the tub closest to the door to listen in. The men guarding him shot each other wary glances, but Merlin couldn't be arsed to care. He tilted his head so that his ear was facing the door.

" _For the last time, Merlin has nothing to do with this. It's hardly the first time we've run into some bad weather while at sea._ "

Arthur sounded annoyed. Merlin distantly wondered whether he was doing that thing where he scrunched up his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

" _He's going to kill us all!_ " the other man shouted, voice growing louder with each word. " _Your father would never stand for this_!"

The last comment was faced with stone faced silence. Whatever Arthur said in reply— _if_ he said anything in reply—Merlin didn't hear. A moment later, he heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock and the door swung open, revealing Arthur in all his angered glory. Merlin had to fight back a flinch when Arthur glared at him. Once upon a time, he would have glared right back. Now, he gazed back at Arthur calmly, his head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Eventually, Arthur sighed and the tension in his shoulders loosened.

" _Everyone out_ ," he ordered curtly, not looking away from Merlin as the men scrambled to obey and the door slammed shut behind them. Merlin started as Arthur spoke.

" _I seem to have found myself faced with a conundrum_ ," Arthur said, walking up to him, his steps slow and measured.

"You know I can't understand you when you use big words, you prat," Merlin replied in Mermish, making sure to accentuate each word clearly so that Arthur would have no trouble understanding _him_. He took an inordinate amount of satisfaction from the way Arthur frowned, but at the same time, Merlin longed to reach out and smooth the frown lines away. He would have done it had he been sure the action would be well-received.

After a few more seconds of staring, Arthur sighed once again. His eyes wandered over the shape of Merlin's body, checking to make sure that there were no bruises, no proof of anything untoward having happened in his absence. When they landed on the ring on Merlin's finger, Arthur dropped down into the chair at the side of the tub and buried his head in his hands. It was the most attention he'd given Merlin in days; Merlin took it as permission to approach him.

" _Arthur_?" he asked with a frown of his own. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his wet hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur’s shirts seemed perpetually drenched nowadays. The white fabric was constantly grey and clung to Merlin’s skin uncomfortably. The sensation of it must have been just as uncomfortable for Arthur, but he didn't protest Merlin's touch. If anything, he leant into it and eventually wrapped his own hand around Merlin's wrist, just below the shackle.

Merlin had missed Arthur's touch. The skin-to-skin contact had him shivering. Emboldened by Arthur's reaction, he moved closer and reached out to touch Arthur's cheek with his other hand.

It stung when Arthur turned his head away from it. The humiliation made Merlin try to sink back into whatever water he had left in his tub, but he was stopped by Arthur's grip on his wrist tightening.

" _Tell me this isn't your doing_ ," Arthur whispered, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. " _Tell me that you aren't the one causing the storms_."

His fingers tightened around Merlin's wrist to the point where he winced in pain. He jerked his hand back and tried to pull away, but Arthur refused to let go of him.

" _It was not me_!" Merlin protested, trying to pry away Arthur's hand. When that didn't work, he dug his claws in until he broke skin and Arthur's blood dribbled down into the water below.

Arthur didn't seem to notice. He didn't relinquish his grip; Merlin could have sworn he heard the bones in his wrist start to creak. He twisted around and swung his tail in Arthur's direction, hoping that would startle him into letting go.

It worked, thank the seas. The moment Arthur jerked away from the tail fin nearing his face, Merlin sped off to the other side of the tub, as far away from Arthur as he could get.

" _What is wrong with you?!"_ he snarled, holding his hand close to his chest. Arthur had stood up from the chair and was leaning over the tub, his eyes fixed on Merlin. He didn't seem apologetic in the least.

There was a residual ache in Merlin's wrist, and the redness Arthur's grip had left behind was growing larger with each passing second.

" _I needed to know_ ," Arthur said by way of explanation. " _I needed to be sure_."

"Go to hell," Merlin growled, before turning around and giving Arthur his back. This was worse, he decided, than Arthur ignoring him. Never before had Arthur had gone so far as to actually hurt him. Merlin could understand that Arthur's life wasn't easy, that this _day_ hadn't been easy, but that was _no_ excuse for the way he'd just been treated.

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur said impatiently, as if _Merlin_ was the one in the wrong here. And there wasn't even enough water left in the tub to sink into properly to avoid him.

He startled when Arthur gave one of the chains a tug, but it soon became clear that Arthur was just trying to get his attention, not pulling him out of the tub. Merlin didn't relent, instead submerging his aching wrist in the cool water, careful not to let the cuff rub against the growing bruise.

" _Merlin_ ," Arthur repeated, this time louder and sounding far more annoyed. The tub creaked as he leant against it. Merlin had just about had enough of this.

He whipped his tail out of the water, sending the liquid flying right at Arthur.

Losing some of his precious, limited supply of water was worth it just to see Arthur's reaction. The second it hit his face, Arthur stumbled backwards over his own feet and fell to the floor, swearing a blue streak. It was the first time Merlin had heard him use such profane language; it was extremely satisfying to know that Merlin was capable of causing the normally collected Captain Pendragon to lose control of his tongue.

He thumbed at the ring on his finger, closed his eyes, and did his utmost best to fall asleep.

After the way Arthur had behaved the previous day, contrition was the last thing Merlin expected from him, yet here he was, faced with the most delectable feast he'd ever laid eyes on. The table before him was full of deliciously smelling food. On the plate closest to him was a small bird, besmeared in a rich-smelling, dark brown sauce. A heap of vegetables had been placed to the side; the only ones Merlin had seen before and could identify were potatoes and broccoli.

The other dishes were no less lavish, covered with different cuts of meat cured in mouth-watering spices. There were bowls, too, full of colourful liquids that Arthur called _soup._ Some of them had chunks of food floating around, while others were thick and creamy. To the side, there was a plate full of slices of cake and pie—that, _that_ was what Merlin wanted to eat the most.

Not that he would say no to the other stuff. Or the jugs full of that one drink that made his head fuzzy—the one Gwaine was particularly fond of.

And just like that, Merlin's good mood vanished and he was left glowering at the display of food before him. When that didn't make him feel better, he turned to glower at Arthur instead.

" _It's meant to be an apology_ ," Arthur said, looking at him expectantly. " _For yesterday. For how I behaved. I got the chef to make all the foods I thought you would like._ "

It wasn't as though Merlin didn't appreciate the gesture, but he had yet to hear an actual apology. The words hadn't crossed Arthur's lips.

" _Say something_ ," Arthur pleaded, shifting from one foot to another in an uncharacteristic show of discomfort. He lifted one foot, as though he was about to take a step in Merlin's direction, but then obviously thought better of it.

Throughout it all, Merlin didn't stop glowering, not until Arthur stood before him, looking more uncertain than Merlin had ever seen him be. He eventually turned back to the food and lifted his hand to reach for the closest plate. Arthur had taught him all about propriety and manners and how to use the utensils that had been carefully placed beside the dishes, but Merlin couldn't be bothered with them right now. Instead, he balanced the plate on the edge of the table where he could easily reach it and grabbed at the contents with his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arthur attempt to keep the disgust off his face, but he didn’t quite manage.

His expression gave Merlin more cause to smile than the food in his mouth. He ate in silence, constantly aware of Arthur standing to the side, staring at him like a fingerling seeking praise from its mother.

" _Do you like it_?" Arthur asked when he could no longer bear the silence. Merlin swallowed the food in his mouth and turned to him.

" _I do_ ," Merlin replied carefully, pushing the plate away from the edge. The utensils clanged as it bumped into them.

" _That's good_." Arthur sounded relieved; it grated on Merlin's nerves. Did Arthur _really_ think that he could give Merlin food and all would miraculously be fine between them? After the way he'd behaved, Merlin wouldn't be letting him off the hook so easily.

" _You still not apologise_ ," he told Arthur pointedly, narrowing his eyes. The sight of Arthur’s flush had satisfaction curling in Merlin’s belly

" _I..._ " Arthur started, eyes darting around the room, landing on anything and everything that wasn't Merlin. He licked his lips nervously, then took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm sorry."

The words were spoken in Mermish. It surprised Merlin so much that he froze in place and spent the next few moments staring at Arthur's face with his mouth wide open.

" _I should not have hurt you_ ," Arthur continued in English. " _It was wrong of me. I was angry, but that is no excuse. I can only promise you that it will not happen again_."

Merlin watched him carefully for a few more seconds, then turned back to the food in front of him.

" _I want Gwaine free_ ," he said, reaching for the bowl of orange soup. Immediately, Arthur's expression closed off, as if Gwaine's name was some sort of trigger.

" _No_." Arthur crossed his arms in front of his chest. The look he aimed at Merlin wasn't _quite_ a glare, but it was close enough. He obviously hadn't forgiven Gwaine for trying to help Merlin escape.

" _Yes_ ," Merlin insisted. " _You apologise and free Gwaine, then I forgive you_. _Not his fault. You punish him enough._ "

" _Merlin_." The sound that came out of Arthur's mouth was practically a growl. After staring at each other for what seemed like forever, Arthur finally relented. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, making sure to lock the door behind him.

To be honest, Merlin hadn't thought convincing him to let Gwaine out of the brig would be that easy. He'd expected more of an argument, but it seemed that Arthur was willing to do a lot to get back into Merlin's good graces.

Merlin supposed he should apologise too, if not for trying to get away, then at least for convincing Gwaine to help him. Arthur deserved that much. Maybe once that was settled, the two of them could sit down and actually eat all of this food. It was too much even for Merlin’s seemingly bottomless stomach.

Arthur didn't come back with Gwaine in tow, but he did arrive with a frown on his face—not that that was far from the norm nowadays.

" _Gwaine is out. He's gone to clean off the grime and get a change of clothes. He should be here soon_." The words came out stiff and stilted; clearly, Arthur wasn't too happy with what he'd just done.

The relief that flooded Merlin was overwhelming. He sank down into the tub with a soft sigh and ran a hand over the side of his face. It was a weight off his shoulders, knowing that Gwaine was free. Merlin felt lighter than he had in days knowing that he hadn't completely ruined Gwaine's life or his friendship with Arthur.

When he finally gathered himself, he found Arthur sitting at the table straight across from him. Merlin tilted his head to the side and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

" _Not even you can eat all of this yourself_ ," Arthur said with a shrug. The beginnings of a smile were beginning to replace the frown. It was a sight Merlin was surprised to find he had begun to miss.

"Not for lack of trying," Merlin murmured, smiling back. He took Arthur picking up his knife and fork as permission to dig in.

Gwaine seemed fine, if a little the worse for wear. The scruff on his cheeks had grown out over the week and was starting to turn into a full-fledged beard.

" _I like it_ ," Gwaine told him when Merlin asked about it. " _I think I'm going to keep it._ "

Merlin nodded his head in agreement. " _It give you personality_."

" _Right_?" Gwaine grinned, ignoring the twin irritated huffs of Merlin's guards. Neither he nor Merlin had been surprised to find out that Gwaine was only allowed to visit under strict supervision.

" _Wish you speak Mermish_ ," Merlin complained. "We'd be able to talk without worrying about those two lumpfish overhearing."

Gwaine perked up. " _Can you teach me some insults in Mermish_?"

" _Insults_?"

" _You know. Bad names to call people. Remember when we did that in English? Maybe throw in a few curse words. That kind of stuff_ ," Gwaine said, grin growing wider with each word that came out of his mouth.

"And here Arthur thought I was the bad influence," Merlin muttered under his breath, shooting another look at his guards. " _Yes, fine. Where to start_?"

Judging by the expression on Gwaine's face and the way his eyes kept flitting over to the sailors, he had a very good idea of where he wanted to begin. And with whom.

Merlin should have known that that wouldn't be the end of everything. His argument with Arthur may have been over, but the storms weren't, and the crewmen he saw were growing more agitated with each passing day. The barbs aimed at him, he could tolerate, but when they spoke ill about Arthur... well. Merlin was in no way admitting to the fact that he was responsible for one of the sailors slipping on a stray bit of food that had mysteriously ended up on the floor. There was absolutely no proof that it had been his doing, except maybe for the fact that he'd been the one eating it.

When Arthur asked him about how one of his men had ended up with a twisted ankle, Merlin had been adamant that it had been an unhappy accident. Arthur's raised eyebrow indicated that he didn't believe him, but just this once, he let it slide, probably unwilling to get into another disagreement so soon.

It wasn't Merlin's fault that his blood boiled whenever he overheard someone talking badly of Arthur. He was only human and he had his faults—Merlin would be the first to admit this—but none of them warranted this sort of talk.

He tried asking Gwaine about it once, but he'd just shot Merlin a small smile and said that the situation was complicated, which Merlin already knew. He didn’t speak much English, but over the last month and a half he'd learnt enough to understand some parts of what the sailors were saying.

Apparently, it hadn't come to their attention that Merlin spoke enough of their language to understand them. They never dared to say anything untoward in Arthur's presence, but the second he was out of the cabin they started going on and on and _on_ about storms and danger and death and merfolk. They never outright mentioned that they considered him to be the cause of the storms, but it was implied.

What they _more_ than implied was that he'd enchanted Arthur; some thought he'd cast a spell on Gwaine as well. He couldn't _believe_ the sheer stupidity of it—if he'd bespelled Arthur, he would have been long gone by now. Some of these humans had brains no bigger than a shrimp.

Merlin tried passing all of this information along to Arthur, only to be brushed off, which infuriated him to no end. His worry over the situation drove him to relate everything to Gwaine, who at least promised to look into it with that oddly concerned frown on his face.

Gwaine _never_ frowned.

Merlin wasn't sure if he _did_ investigate it or not, but he didn't see Gwaine talking to anyone. Granted, Merlin didn't get to see very much of anything, chained up as he was, but he assumed he'd at least hear Gwaine's name crop up in conversations once people realised he was asking questions.

Gwaine didn't seem to have talked to Arthur, either, although that was most likely because the two of them weren't on the best of terms. Merlin hoped he'd at least said something to Leon. Or Percival. Or Elyan. Or literally _anyone_ else so that he didn't have to worry about taking care of everything himself.

Although from what little he'd been told, Elyan was busy fixing the mast that had been damaged by the recent storms. Merlin hadn't seen him in a while. Percival was likely helping him.

In the end, Merlin found out what was going on long before Gwaine ever did, and it was only thanks to his light sleep.

They came in the dead of the night. At first, Merlin couldn't place what had woken him. He blinked open his eyes, only to be faced with an all-encompassing darkness. The moon, too, had betrayed him, shielding herself behind clouds and keeping any light to herself.

Because of the darkness, Merlin almost missed the shadows slinking their way across the cabin, creeping closer to Arthur's bed with each passing second. It wasn't until a stray tendril of moonlight hit the blade of a knife that Merlin realised what was going on.

" _Arthur_!" he shouted in a panic, pushing himself up and thrashing in his bindings. " _Arthur, wake up_!"

" _Shut it up_!" came a voice from one of the shadows—and seas below, those were _Arthur's own men_ trying to kill him, weren't they?!

One of the shadows lunged at him, but Merlin was faster and far less clumsy. When the man reached out his arms, intent on seizing him, Merlin quickly ducked away. He propelled himself to the edge of the tub, and then sprang out of the water so that he was face-to-face with his attacker.

Before the man had a chance to react, Merlin seized his head with one hand and shoulder with the other, and sunk his fangs into the man's neck. It was his first time tasting human blood; it was disgusting metallic. The warm wetness of it rushed into his mouth and down his chin. When he dislodged his teeth from the man's throat, Merlin spat it out.

He'd expected retaliation—maybe a knife to the back or a hit to the head. Fortunately, his attacker seemed more preoccupied with stopping the bleeding than he was with killing Merlin. He stumbled back when Merlin pushed him and fell to the floor.

A crash sounded from the direction of Arthur’s bed. Merlin's eyes strained against the darkness, trying to see what was going on.

“Arthur!” he shouted in panic, pulling on his chains, not caring how the shackles scraped against his wrists and made them bleed.

Another crash, and this time, Merlin managed to break free. He ripped the rings right out of the wall and fell forward, over the edge of the tub and onto the unforgiving, hardwood flooring. The knife was lying in a pool of blood next to him. Merlin picked it up and started pulling himself in the direction of the scuffle, fully intent on killing the other man before he killed Arthur.

He found them on the floor next to the bed. The second assailant was sitting astride Arthur’s waist, both hands on the hilt of a knife. The tip of it had already cut through Arthur’s shirt and was nearing Arthur’s heart. Arthur had his own hands wrapped around the man’s wrists and was trying to force him back, but he was fighting a losing battle

Merlin’s own heart almost stopped beating when he saw blood begin to soak into the white fabric. Terrified, he lunged forward, hoping to at the very least startle the man into letting go. In the frenzy of the struggle, his presence went unnoticed. It wasn't until he sunk his own knife into the man's back that anyone even realised he was there.

The blade was long enough that it came out through the man's chest, dripping more blood onto Arthur's shirt. The man sputtered and let go of the knife, dropping it onto Arthur’s chest. He fell forwards, hands grappling for the knife Merlin had stabbed him with. Arthur pushed him to the side and got out from underneath him. He took the knife with him.

The man's fingers scrabbled at the floor in a last half-hearted attempt to reach for Arthur, who kicked him away.

The click of a pistol startled them both. Merlin looked to the side, wide-eyed, only to find the barrel of a gun in his face. Time slowed down as the man pressed down on the trigger, preparing to fire a bullet that would pierce through Merlin’s skull, splatter his brains upon the floor.

Something warm and heavy crashed into him, sending them flying both backwards. Merlin’s saw stars when his head slammed into the floor. He was still blinking them back when the heavy thing moved away, leaving him gasping for breath.

Another shot sounded through the room, the sound of it making Merlin’s heart race. Did the man have another gun? Was Arthur all right?

Unable to see much lying prone on the floor, Merlin pushed himself up, searching for the source of the noise.

There weren’t words to describe the relief he felt when he saw Arthur standing in front of him, his back to Merlin. In his hand, he held a smoking gun. A third attacker lay dead at his feet, but Arthur himself looked none the worse for wear.

Merlin gave himself a second to take it all in and catch his breath before speaking

" _I told you_ ," he said, startling Arthur into dropping his own pistol. " _You should listened to me_."

He was not at all expecting Arthur to crash to the floor beside him, grab him by the shoulders and smash their lips together.

It didn't take long to figure out the identities of the remaining men who'd planned the murder. Gwaine had been working on it for a few days already, and when he found out about the attempt on Arthur's life, he immediately told him what he knew, the tensions between them be damned.

Merlin was glad to see them speaking to each other again. At least Gwaine could talk to Arthur normally—Merlin wasn't allowed the same. He and Arthur hadn't spoken since before the kiss, which frustrated Merlin to no end. Every time he tried to bring it up, he either found himself at a loss for words (literally—he didn’t know the right words in English) or ended up being steadfastly avoided by his blushing ship captain. Merlin wasn't sure how much more of this frustration he'd be able to take before he went on a murderous rampage.

Which he could do now. Arthur hadn't bothered to remount the wall rings to keep Merlin chained up; oddly enough, he'd gone so far as to remove Merlin's shackles altogether. It felt odd not having anything weighing him down. His wrists were still sore after the debacle of the previous day, but Gaius had come by and wrapped them for him—the only condition was that he couldn't submerge the injuries in water because it would wash off the ointment.

Nobody had paid Merlin any heed when he'd insisted that he didn't _need_ any ointment. Give him a patch of seaweed to wrap around the injury and he'd be fine.

He'd voiced that particular opinion and suddenly found himself faced with the full force of Gaius's eyebrow. For such an elderly man, he could be terrifying when he needed to be. The power of his eyebrow even managed to get Arthur to sit still and allow Gaius to check on his injuries.

Arthur, too, had insisted that he was fine. In this case, however, Merlin sided with Gaius. Humans were fragile creatures. Left untreated, Arthur's injuries could _fester_. Granted, it happened to merfolk too sometimes, but Gaius made it seem like there was a much larger risk of it happening to a human. After all the effort Merlin had gone to to save Arthur's life, he would hate to see him die because he was too proud to admit that he was injured.

Despite having been freed of his shackles, Merlin still spent all of his time in his tub, what with the whole 'needing to stay in water to live' thing. He was more than tempted to try to escape, but not even he could manage to crawl all the way across the ship and throw himself into the ocean without being seen. It was too big a ship with too many humans on it.

Besides, he couldn't leave without talking to Arthur first. And he _would_ talk to Arthur—as soon as Arthur stopped ignoring him. As soon as Merlin managed to get him alone. Which wasn't as easy as it seemed, what with Arthur constantly running around the ship making arrests. At least Merlin didn't have to worry about his safety now that Gwaine had taken to keeping him company. If anyone wanted to make another attempt on Arthur's life, they would have to go through him first.

Merlin hadn't actually _seen_ Gwaine fight, but if he wielded a sword the same way he did a knife, both he and Arthur would be fine, especially considering that Arthur was unlikely to be caught off guard after the attempt on his life.

Arthur was obviously trying to be stoic about the whole situation, but Merlin could see that his crew members’ betrayal was weighing on him. It was unsurprising, considering that he'd trusted those men with his life. He'd protected them, paid their wages, only to have them try to murder him in his sleep.

All because of Merlin.

At least this time, the guilt didn't weigh on him as much as it did when it came to Gwaine. With him, Merlin had actively worked to convince him to go against Arthur. It... it hadn't _really_ been a betrayal. Of trust, maybe, but Merlin could feel deep in his bones that Gwaine would never turn against Arthur to the point of wanting to kill him.

He could have put more of an effort into explaining that merfolk can't use magic. That the storms weren't his fault. That _he_ wasn’t the one who told Arthur to organise a feast for him as an attempt at an apology.

Gwaine, too, claimed that it wasn't his fault. The mutiny had been a long time coming—ever since Arthur had embarked on his foolhardy quest to capture a creature that people considered a fairy tale. Merlin hadn't had a chance to speak to Arthur about it, be he expected he would say the same.

All in all, the rest of the night and the following day brought with them a wave of activity. Arthur's most trusted crewmen constantly swam in and out of the room, dropping off papers, speaking to their captain, keeping an eye on Merlin to make sure he wasn’t doing anything untoward.

Not that he planned on doing anything. He was rather content just sitting around and watching, both physically and mentally exhausted after the events of the previous night.

It wasn't until the evening, once all the arrests had been made and Arthur's continued safety assured, that Arthur approached him. Merlin tried to keep the tension in his muscles at bay, but unfortunately, they seemed to have a mind of their own. Every step that brought Arthur closer to him had Merlin's shoulders rising up to his ears. He did his best to force them down and pushed himself up to get face-to-face with Arthur.

The blush seemed to have become a permanent fixture on Arthur's face. It was oddly endearing to see Arthur so flustered. Despite the trepidation Merlin felt at the thought of the upcoming conversation, he smiled. He was gratified to see Arthur smile back.

Maybe... maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Arthur had obviously kissed him for a reason, and Merlin had definitely had one for kissing him back. He just hoped Arthur wouldn't try to explain it away as something he'd done in the heat of the moment.

Disappointingly, the kiss wasn't what Arthur wanted to talk about.

" _I'm going to let you go_ ," Arthur said, not even bothering to take a seat. " _You saved my life and I... I'm grateful. I cannot in good conscience continue to keep you here against your will_."

Merlin reeled back as though he'd been slapped.

" _Free_?" he asked, wanting to be sure that he'd understood Arthur correctly. " _You let me go_?"

The concept was bewildering. Just over a week ago, he'd attempted to take matters into his own hands and had been faced with the full force of Arthur's wrath, and now Arthur wanted to free him? Just like that? Because Merlin saved his life?

Or did Arthur want to get rid of him after what had happened?

" _You saved my life_ ," Arthur repeated with the slightest hint of awe in his voice. " _You broke free of the chains when you saw I was in danger and I_ —" he cut off. " _I don't understand why you did it, truly. I cannot say I would have done the same had I been in your position. You never deserved what I did to you, and I will never be able to apologise enough for that, but I... it took me far too long to arrive at this conclusion, but your safety and freedom is more important to me than my pride. I no longer care if the world believes that you exist. I do not need to be proven right. I just need you to be safe_."

Merlin stared at him, trying to make sense of what Arthur was saying. Not for the first time, he wished he understood more of Arthur's language.

" _You set me free?"_ he asked again, still stuck on that tidbit of information. Arthur took one long look at the expression on his face and barked out a laugh.

"Yes, Merlin. Yes," he said, this time in Merlin's own language. " _It's dark now. I do not know if light matters to you as much as it does to me, but I would feel better if I did not leave you stranded in the middle of the ocean in the dead of night_."

" _Tomorrow, then_?" Merlin asked, his dumbstruck expression slowly transforming into a grin.

" _Tomorrow_ ," Arthur confirmed with a sad smile. " _Tomorrow, you shall be on your way back home_."

Merlin said his goodbyes in the morning. His friends—because that's what they were, wasn't it?—were visibly sad to see him go. Gwaine even had tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. The same could not be said for Merlin—no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to stop the wetness that kept making its way down his cheeks. He tried putting it down to excitement; he _had_ been told that it was able to cause tears, and after all this time he was finally going to go home! He'd see his mother and Freya and Will and everyone else...

But the price would be leaving the humans he had come to know and love. The price would be leaving Arthur with little to no hope of ever seeing him again.

And Arthur _still_ hadn't said anything about the seas forsaken kiss, although Merlin supposed that he hadn't said anything either. Communication was supposed to work both ways.

When it was time to leave, Arthur was the one who carried him out of the cabin. Merlin had expected to be dropped over the railing and into the sea, so it came as a surprise when he landed on the wooden floor of a small boat instead of in the water.

It came as an even bigger surprise when Arthur jumped in next to him, taking extra care not to step on Merlin's tail fin. He shouted something to Percival, who had accompanied them, and a few seconds later, the boat started to drop. Arthur chuckled when Merlin jumped in alarm. In retaliation, Merlin gestured rudely with his hand, hoping Arthur understood it for the insult it was. It only served to make Arthur laugh harder.

They hit the water with a soft splash. Merlin immediately reached down to trail his fingers through it, delighting in the sharp briny scent of it. He’d missed it so much.

Arthur cleared his throat, drawing Merlin's eyes to him. All traces of amusement had left his face; he looked sombre. Merlin's own smile slowly started to disappear.

" _This is goodbye, then_?" Arthur asked, placing one of his hands on the back of Merlin's and caressing the ring with the pad of his thumb. Merlin turned his hand around and linked their fingers together, giving Arthur's hand a squeeze, before slowly letting go. He gripped the side of the boat and eased himself over it, sighing in pleasure when he landed in the refreshingly cool ocean water.

Arthur was still looking at him with a wistful expression on his face. He licked his lips once and opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. He didn't attempt to reach out for Merlin again.

" _I..."_ for the first time in his life, Merlin didn't know what to say. He pulled himself up so that he was level with Arthur. " _I miss you_ ," is what he finally settled on, looking Arthur right in the eyes. Arthur didn't move, didn't _breathe_ , seemingly content with staring back at him. Hesitantly, Merlin brought one hand up to cup Arthur's jaw. When Arthur didn't back away, Merlin leant in and kissed him on the lips.

Arthur sat there, frozen, for what seemed like hours but could only have been seconds. Right when Merlin was about to pull away, Arthur whined low in his throat and started kissing back. His lips moved beneath Merlin's and he brought his own hands up to place them on the sides of Merlin's head; Merlin moaned when Arthur curled his fingers in his hair and _tugged_.

Arthur took advantage of Merlin opening his mouth to start sucking on his bottom lip. His fingers wandered down Merlin's head, over his neck and shoulders until they reached the fins on his forearms. He caressed them softly, then pulled away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against Merlin's. With one last peck on the lips, Arthur pulled away entirely.

" _Go home_ ," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. " _Go be with your family_."

Merlin couldn't bring himself to move, not until Arthur turned away. Not until he yelled for Percival to bring him back up. Not until Arthur disappeared over the side of the ship, leaving Merlin adrift in the middle of the ocean, feeling more alone than he ever had before.

The ring flashed in the sunlight as Merlin dove beneath the waves.


	3. Chapter 3

In Merlin’s defence, he had fully intended to go back home. It was just… he just couldn't seem to actually _do_ it.

He'd stared from beneath the surface of the ocean as Arthur's ship had sailed away, quickly becoming nothing more than a shadow, and then he'd done something monumentally stupid.

He'd decided to follow it.

Merlin had lost count of how many days had passed since then. He made sure to keep close enough to the surface so that he wouldn't lose the ship, but far enough away so that no one would be able to catch sight of him. The only time he let himself get close was at night, when he needed to sleep. It had worried him at first, the thought of falling asleep and losing track of Arthur, but he’d quickly stumbled upon a solution, because apparently, Merlin had more luck than he did reason.

A few hours after Arthur had let him go, another storm had broken out. Merlin had stayed underwater for most of it, but the rampaging winds had swept a lot of the unsecured supplies overboard—no people, though, thank the seas. Just an amalgam of barrels and crates and what appeared to be a torn sail.

They had also dragged a coil of rope from the deck and into the ocean. Merlin’s heart had almost given out when he'd heard the splash right above him.

He'd found a use for the rope not five minutes after it had—quite literally—fallen into his hands. The exterior of Arthur's ship had numerous carvings and decorations. Once the storm had passed and the ship was no longer in danger of sinking each time it was hit by a wave. Merlin swam up to it, searching for a carving near the surface of the water that looked capable of holding his weight. He'd tied one end of the rope to it; the other he fastened around his waist whenever he needed to get some sleep, leaving him to be pulled along behind the ship.

It wasn't the most comfortable way to sleep, but it was the best he could come up with and, most importantly, it worked. No one aboard the ship had caught on yet, and with a bit of luck, they never would.

The only thing that actually bothered him was the injury on his tail. While it had healed nicely and the scales had regrown, Merlin still found that it pained him whenever he pushed himself too hard. He was no longer capable of racing through the water as quickly as he used to, and catching food had become more of a chore than ever been before. He half-wished he was still in Arthur's cabin and able to have people bring him food whenever he was hungry.

 _Arthur._ It hurt, thinking about him. To Merlin’s surprise, he found that he missed Arthur more than he'd ever missed the sea. He hadn’t expected to grow so attached to a human, and yet there was something about Arthur that made Merlin consider settling down with him, different species be damned.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Arthur not knowing how to find him again, which was how he'd found himself in his current predicament—tracking Arthur halfway across the world to the place he called home.

It was a tedious journey for the most part. Merlin had no one to talk to, no one to turn to. More than once, he was tempted to call it quits, but then he'd hear Arthur's voice coming from inside his cabin or the deck, and the thought of leaving would blink out of existence as quickly as it had appeared.

Besides, he would only be alone for a little while. He'd overheard someone say that they were nearing their destination; there couldn’t be more than a few days left of the journey. He’d find out where Arthur lived for future reference, and then he'd be on his way back home to his friends and family.

Every so often, they’d sail close enough to land that Merlin would be able to see trees and buildings. The ship never got too close, but rather stayed out on the open water, far enough away so as not to run aground. With each passing day, the waters grew colder and Merlin was left shivering. The fish were different, too. He was used to seeing more reefs and overall more colour, but the seas up here were… well, they were a bit bleak in comparison.

As busy as he was trying to keep up with the ship, Merlin didn’t notice the moment it finally turned away from the open sea. Only the sudden flurry of activity—hearable even right below the surface because by the seas, those sailors were _loud_ —let him know that there was something going on. Curious, Merlin swam closer to the ship and popped his head out of the water.

And there it was, a ways ahead—an island, filled with a wide expanse of browns and bright greens. They would arrive within hours, provided the winds stayed strong; certainly no later than the evening. The voyage was finally coming to an end.

As it turned out, it wasn't as easy as he'd thought to find out where Arthur lived. Merlin hadn't exactly factored in the possibility of Arthur's home being inland. There were rivers he could _technically_ swim up, but to be honest, Merlin was anxious about someone seeing and catching him _again_. He doubted whoever it was would be as nice as Arthur.

He had already been through that ordeal once. A repeat was the _last_ thing he needed right now.

So instead of swimming upriver, Merlin stayed at the docks, never straying too far from Arthur's ship for fear that it would sail away in his absence. Regrettably, Arthur hadn't actually been anywhere near it in days; the second they had docked, he'd walked off and had yet to return.

Merlin could— _technically_ —leave. He _sort of_ knew where Arthur lived; at the very least, he knew where the ship docked. He could always come back to it and hope to find Arthur there.

But... he was filled with this intense need to see Arthur one last time. To _speak_ to him one last time. Just... just _once_. And if it didn’t go well, he would leave for good. In the meantime, he’d have to make do with living off whatever crustaceans he could find roaming around the seabed.

When a week had passed and there was still no sign of Arthur, Merlin started to lose hope. He'd been so _certain_ that Arthur was a sailor at heart; he’d proclaimed his love for it often enough. What could possibly be keeping him away for such a long time? The thought of not having the chance to see him broke Merlin’s heart.

And of course, of _course_ the moment Merlin decided that he would be better off leaving was also the moment Arthur finally deigned to show up. The sun had begun to set and Merlin had decided to leave his little corner and get some sleep when Arthur had the sheer _audacity_ to walk through into harbour as if he owned the place. From his vantage point, behind Arthur’s ship, Merlin could see him as he looked around, made his way to the most distant, abandoned part of the port, then sat down on the edge of the pier, his boot-clad feet swinging to and fro above the water.

He absolutely deserved it when Merlin burst out of the water and grabbed him by the ankle. Arthur's shrill scream was music to his ears; Merlin would _never_ let him live it down.

" _What the de—Merlin_?!" he shouted, eyes wide open with the shock of seeing Merlin in the water below him. Merlin let go of his ankle and waved.

" _Arthur_ ," he replied with a grin, ducking out of the way as Arthur's foot swung lightly at his head.

" _What are you doing here_?" Arthur asked, reaching out with one hand and leaning so far forward that he almost fell into the water. When Arthur's fingers landed on the top of Merlin's head, he pushed up into the touch. He could have moaned when they started carding through his hair.

" _I want see you_ ," Merlin replied in a quiet whisper, carefully studying Arthur's face. He noted with a not-so-small amount of pleasure that his words made colour rise to Arthur's cheeks. " _I... I miss you_." _Seas_ , that hurt to admit.

Arthur licked his lips. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as quickly. When Merlin moved forward and leant his head against Arthur's calf, he heaved a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

" _I missed you too_ ," Arthur admitted shyly, tightening his grip on Merlin's hair. The tension eased when Arthur opened his eyes. " _But you should have been on your way back home by now_ ," he added with a sad smile.

" _I know_ ," Merlin whispered, placing his hand on Arthur's knee. " _But I could not leave not know where you are. If I want find you someday_." Merlin hesitated, his gaze settled upon Arthur's awed expression. " _And I... I need say something to you. Something I not say yet."_

" _I'm listening_ ," Arthur said, his smile never leaving his face. Merlin wanted to push himself up onto the pier and kiss it right off Arthur's face.

" _When we kiss, before. I should told you then. I... I not know words, but you make my heart warm. I like you very much_ ," Merlin said, putting particular emphasis on the last two words in the hopes that it would help Arthur understand what he was trying to convey. " _I feel alone when you not there. I want you with me. Always._ "

Arthur didn't say anything for the longest time. Merlin froze, terrified he'd done something wrong. When it began to look like no reply would be forthcoming, he withered.

" _I... Never mind_ ," Merlin whispered, sinking down into the water. " _Forget what I said. I... I—_ "

He nearly jumped out of his scales when Arthur eased himself off the pier and landed in the water next to him. Merlin avoided eye contact when Arthur put his hands on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

" _I— it’s called ‘love’ and I—_ " Arthur broke off and drew a deep, shuddering breath. " _Merlin, look at me_."

When it became obvious that Merlin wouldn't listen, Arthur took it upon himself to place a warm hand on the side of his face and push his head up.

Seas. Merlin's eyes were tearing up and his heart felt as though it had just shattered to pieces. He shouldn't have said anything, he should have—

And then Arthur kissed him on the lips. _Again_.

"You really need to stop doing that," Merlin breathed against Arthur's lips, all the tension having drained out of him. He sighed in pleasure when Arthur kissed him again. After opening his mouth to let Arthur in, he licked over Arthur's bottom lip, delighting in the taste of him upon his tongue.

Merlin leant closer, pressing their foreheads together, and wound his arms around Arthur's back. In return, Arthur trailed his tongue over the sharp ridges of Merlin's teeth, and Merlin pressed up against him, against the now wet fabric of Arthur's shirt, against—

" _Arthur?_ " came a voice from above them. " _Arthur, where are you?"_

Arthur quickly pulled away from Merlin's embrace, eyes wide with alarm. He pressed two fingers to his own lips, almost as though in wonder, before shaking his head.

" _Go_ ," Arthur whispered, pointing at the water below them. " _Now, before he finds you_."

" _But I_ —" Merlin tried to protest, only to be interrupted.

" _I promise to be here. I promise I’ll be back. Now go!_ "

And with that, Arthur let go of Merlin and grabbed onto one of the wooden poles. With one last glance back, he climbed up and heaved himself over the side. Merlin sank down until only the top of his head remained above the water, unwilling to let Arthur out of his sight now that he'd found him again.

" _I'm here, Father_ ," Arthur said, his voice echoing over the water. Perking up at the last word, Merlin tilted his head to the side curiously. He never thought he'd get the chance to see Arthur's father. He'd heard so many stories during his stay on Arthur's ship; he wondered how many of them could be true.

...Arthur _had_ told him to go hide and Merlin’s instincts were telling him the same, but the occasion was too good to pass up. This might be the only chance he got to see Arthur's father and he wasn't going to squander it just because it could turn out to be dangerous.

Instead of listening to Arthur and doing what he should, Merlin scrambled up the nearest wooden post and peeked his head over the top.

Arthur hadn't gotten far; he was a mere few steps away, slowly walking over to the only other human present. Curious, Merlin dropped back down into the water and swam closer, hoping to find a place where he could observe the two without being seen. He managed to locate a semi-secluded area below the gangplank of a nearby ship.

" _What on Earth happened to you?_ " came a gruff, low voice. " _You look as though you've been dragged to the Americas and back!_ "

Even from where he was, Merlin could easily see the trace of colour high on Arthur's cheeks, the redness of his lips, the dishevelled state of his clothing. He felt proud—and a little smug—at having been the one who'd caused it.

Arthur's father was standing with his profile facing Merlin. With the sun in the way Merlin couldn't see his features; the most he could make out was his imposing stature and the grey of his hair, cut much shorter than Arthur's. He looked oddly familiar, but Merlin couldn't place where he'd seen his likeness before. Perhaps Arthur had shown him a portrait? Or maybe he was a subject of one of those drawings Arthur was so fond of?

Merlin pushed himself further out of the water, eager for a better look, but all he managed to do was bang his head on the gangplank with a loud thud. Immediately, Merlin ducked back down, but it was too late. Arthur's father had already turned, already seen him, and—

 _Oh seas_. That face. He'd never in a million years forget that face.

Standing before him was the man who'd killed his father.

Merlin wasn't sure how Arthur had managed to stop him before he'd ripped Uther Pendragon's oesophagus out of his throat and tore his heart from his chest. He'd displayed a surprising amount of strength—strength that Merlin hadn't been expecting when he'd launched himself at the _murderer_.

The only reason Arthur was able to keep hold of him was because Merlin refused to hurt him in his pursuit of justice. No matter how much he struggled, how much he snarled, it was impossible to extract himself from Arthur's grip without breaking at least one of Arthur’s bones in the process.

And Merlin loved Arthur. He'd _never_ do that to him, not even if it would get him the head of his father's killer on a platter.

" _Merlin! Merlin, stop!_ " Arthur shouted into his ear, still still _still_ refusing to let go. Merlin snapped his jaws a finger's length from Arthur's face and was gratified to see him startle.

"Let go of me!" Merlin shouted, seeing red. "Let me go right now or I swear I'll—"

"Stop!" Arthur shouted desperately, this time in Mermish. It shocked Merlin enough that he stopped struggling for a second. Arthur took advantage of the fact and pinned him down to the wooden boards of the pier, his hands wound tightly around Merlin's wrists and his legs straddling his waist.

"Get _off_ me!" Merlin shouted, spittle flying from his lips. Arthur stared back, unperturbed, only looking up when he heard his father's footsteps. Glaring at him one last time, Merlin followed his gaze.

Uther didn’t look as calm and imposing as he had mere moments ago. Sometime during Merlin's abrupt appearance, he'd gone pale—paler than Merlin had ever seen a human be—and was standing motionless, gripping his chest.

" _You're_... _you're that child_ ," Uther whispered, shocked. He staggered back, his other hand coming up to cover his mouth.

"Murderer!" Merlin snarled, trying to buck Arthur off of him. All it did was make Arthur lean down and cage him in, making absolutely sure Merlin had no way of escaping his grasp.

" _Father_?" Arthur asked, obviously confused. When Uther didn't reply, Arthur’s grip on Merlin slackened enough for Merlin to push him off, not that he managed to get far before Arthur caught him again. Merlin may have been one of the fastest creatures in the sea, but he was completely out of his depth on land. This was one of the decidedly few times in his life that he found himself wishing he had legs instead of a tail.

Uther was so still that Merlin thought he'd died. He _hoped_ he'd died, but apparently, it wasn’t meant to be because seconds later, Uther managed to snap out of whatever stupor he was in and started shaking his head.

" _This isn't possible_ ," he breathed, voice almost too quiet to be heard. " _It's not possible_ ," he repeated, not daring to take his eyes off Merlin's writhing form. The sound that tore itself from Merlin's throat was nowhere near humane.

" _What isn't possible_?" Arthur asked, pushing himself up. " _Father_?"

When Uther didn't reply, Merlin took it upon himself to inform Arthur of what was going on.

" _Your father kill mine_ ," Merlin said almost emotionlessly. " _When I was young. Kill in front of me_."

" _I... what_?" Arthur asked, bewildered. His gaze kept flitting from Merlin to Uther, unable—or unwilling—to settle. " _Father, what is he saying_?"

It grated on Merlin's nerves, knowing that Arthur didn't believe him. That he had to ask the monster he called his _father_ for confirmation of Merlin's story.

" _I was... It was..._ " Uther seemed unable to form a sentence, unable to look his son in the eye, unable to look at anything that wasn’t Merlin. " _It was an accident_ ," is what he finally settled on, his pursed lips turning almost as white as his skin. Uther’s arms dropped back down to his side, listless.

" _Accident_?!" Merlin yelled, muscles slackening in sheer disbelief. " _You stab him! How is that accident?!_ " Arthur's thumb caressed the soft skin on the inside of his wrist, stopping only when Merlin glared at him with all the rage he could muster.

" _I didn't mean to... I..._ " Uther stammered and eventually trailed off, his gaze drifting from Merlin to Arthur. " _You said... you said you didn't find any of them_ ," he said, phrasing the words as a question. " _You said that they didn't exist_!"

" _I found Merlin_ ," Arthur replied quietly. The expression on his face quickly morphed into wariness as he understood what it was that his father was saying. " _You mean to tell me that all this time, you knew they existed? And you lied to me, made me out to be some sort of misguided child?_ "

It was heart-breaking to hear the note of betrayal in Arthur's voice, but at least this time, it wasn't directed towards him. Merlin could get revenge enough for the both of them, if only Arthur would _let go of him_!

" _All this time I thought..._ " Arthur continued, voice gradually growing quieter. " _I thought I was going mad. I was so certain of what I saw and you told me that I had made it all up?_ "

" _Arthur_ ," Uther whispered, visibly pained. " _It was never my intention to make you feel..._ " he trailed off and sighed. " _I never wished for this to happen_."

" _Yes, Father. Why don't you tell us exactly what did happen_?" Arthur asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into something reminiscent of a snarl. Merlin winced when the grip on his wrists grew stronger; he would have a ring of bruises around each of them on the morrow.

" _It was an accident_ ," Uther said again. The words made Merlin's blood boil and his fists clench so tight that he pierced the skin of his hands with his claws. " _It... it happened on the day of your mother's death. There was a—_ "

" _Storm, yes, I know_ ," Arthur interrupted impatiently. " _I don't see what her death has to do with you murdering Merlin's father. Or with you pretending for the better part of my life that merfolk don't exist_."

" _It isn't that simple, Arthur_ ," Uther says tiredly, roughly swiping one hand through his hair.

" _Then explain it in a way I can understand_ ," Arthur growls. " _Because right now, I have half a mind to let Merlin go and do as he will_."

If only.

" _Your mother, she... She drowned—_ "

" _Yes, I am aware_ ," Arthur interrupted again. Uther held out a hand to keep him from speaking. If only he reached out a little further, Merlin would gladly bite off a finger or two and prove that his sharp, pointy teeth weren't just for show.

" _Someone tried to save her_ ," Uther continued. " _His father_ ," he added, gesturing towards Merlin. " _I didn't realise it at the time. I wasn't thinking clearly. I saw him leaning over her, laid out on the driftwood and I... I attacked him. It was not until after he was dead that I realised he had only been trying to save her life. That his child had been nearby and had seen the entire thing_."

" _But then... why did you not tell me_?" Arthur asked desperately, letting go of Merlin's wrists to place his hands on his thighs. " _I saw him! I told you I saw him, and you—_ " Arthur broke off and grit his teeth. " _You have been lying to me my entire life!_ "

" _I wanted to protect them_." Uther wiped a weary hand across his forehead. " _It was the only way I could think of to atone for what I had done_. _I could not let anyone else find out they existed. It… they would never be left alone. I did not want anyone else to die needlessly; I could not let that happen, not after one died trying to save Ygraine_."

Someone laughed nearby, startling all three of them. From the way he was positioned, Merlin couldn't see the human who'd made the noise, but he had a very clear view of Arthur looking down at him in fear.

" _He needs to go_ ," Uther whispered, looking at something past Arthur, eyes wide with panic. " _Quickly, get him in the water!"_

Arthur looked at his father in surprise, but quickly moved to do as he was told. They weren't far from the water, thank the seas, so it took no more than a few seconds for Arthur to heave Merlin up and haul him over the side of the pier. Head spinning, Merlin didn't even try to resist.

Despite the sudden weakness of his muscles, everything inside him was screaming, telling him to go back and rip Uther's guts out through his eye sockets. If not for the fact that Arthur was still there and would see _everything_ , he probably would have, but... oddly enough, Uther had seemed sincere. He'd seemed ashamed, _repentant_ even, and if he was to be believed, he'd spent years trying to disprove the existence of merfolk so that they would be left alone. So that no one else would have to go through what Merlin did.

And just now, he'd even told Arthur to hide Merlin when he'd heard the other human arrive, uncaring that releasing Merlin could be tantamount to serving himself the death sentence.

Seas below, Merlin would _never_ be able to get the image of his father's bloodied corpse out of his head. He hated Uther _so much_. He wanted to kill him _so much_ , to get justice for his father, to make sure that Uther never hurt anyone else ever again.

Except there was also Arthur to consider. This was Arthur's _father_ and no matter how angry Arthur was at him right now, he wouldn't stand idly by as Merlin ripped Uther to shreds, as he'd already proved _twice_ mere minutes ago. And even if Merlin _did_ manage to get past him, Arthur would never forgive him.

He loved Arthur _so much more_ than he hated Uther. He wanted this to work. He wanted them to _make_ this work.

And that would, apparently, require Uther Pendragon to live.

" _Go_ ," Arthur whispered insistently, leaning over the pier. " _Go. I shall be here tomorrow at sunset if... if you still want to see me after all of this. Just, please... stay safe._ "

Merlin looked past Arthur and at Uther. At this angle, he could see only the top of his head, but it was enough to make Merlin’s heart pound, to flood him with so much rage that he felt as though he would explode.

When he turned back to Arthur, he was staring at Merlin fearfully—the way he had when he'd let Merlin go and thought that he would never see him again. It wasn't an unreasonable fear, considering the day's events, but... well. Merlin never knew when to leave well enough alone.

Slowly, he nodded his head in answer to Arthur's unasked question.

" _Tomorrow_ ," he confirmed quietly. They would settle all of this tomorrow. It was just as well; he needed some time to think after the day's emotional maelstrom. He turned around, ready to dive under the surface of the water, but the sound of his name on Arthur's lips stopped him in his tracks.

" _Merlin_?" Arthur asked, not continuing until Merlin was facing him. " _I love you_."

With one last longing glance in Merlin's direction, Arthur left. Merlin waited until he was out of sight before letting himself sink into the water.

This time, the emotion swamping him felt suspiciously like relief.

True to his word, Arthur appeared on the pier the following night, when the moon was high up in the sky. The part of they were on was just as abandoned as it had been the previous day; all of the ships seemed to have been moored at the other end, so there was little risk of running into anyone here. Merlin distantly wondered if there was some sort of system in place to keep the ships from docking where they pleased or if they stayed away because this end of the docks had fallen into disrepair.

He could understand why Arthur had chosen to come here. This late at night, with the moon shining brightly overhead, it was beautifully serene.

Merlin didn't bother to show himself until Arthur reached the end of the pier and sat down in the same spot as yesterday. The tension in his shoulders was visible even through the murky water. He didn't startle Arthur this time; the time for humour was long past.

Neither of them dared to break the silence. Unlike the other day, Arthur seemed hesitant to reach out, to even make eye contact. That, more than the previous day’s events, grated on Merlin's nerves.

" _Well_?" Merlin asked, looking up at Arthur while doing his best not to glare. He'd cooled down a bit overnight. The anger had dissipated quickly once Uther had left his sight, only to be replaced by a deep sorrow the likes of which he hadn't felt in years. His heart—seas, his whole _chest_ —had ached. _Still_ ached. He couldn't see the tears underwater, but had he been on land, he would have wept enough of them to dry out his eyes.

To say that his sleep had been troubled would be an understatement. The nightmares, featuring increasingly grotesque portrayals of his father's death, had awoken him long before the sun had risen. As a result, he had deep purple bags under his eyes that would make a hungover Gwaine proud.

" _Well_..." Arthur repeated, trailing off, his eyes landing somewhere in the vicinity of Merlin’s chest. Merlin bit his lower lip and swam up to him, more unsure of his welcome than he had been yesterday.

Arthur's impromptu confession had left his ears ringing and heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, but...

There was a small—very small, but most decidedly still _present_ —part of Merlin that was convinced Arthur had only said it in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. He didn't _want_ to think that; Arthur was nothing if not honourable, and Merlin couldn't imagine him stooping so low, but the shred of doubt remained.

Arthur had seemed desperate to save his father. What if that had been the only way he could think of to do so?

" _You came back_ ," Arthur finally said when the silence got too uncomfortable. " _I... I didn't think you would, to be honest_."

Merlin tilted his head to the side and studied Arthur carefully. He seemed tired—exhausted, even. Merlin wouldn't put it past him to have stayed up all night arguing with Uther, or worrying about what he would say to Merlin when the time came for them to meet.

" _I did_ ," Merlin said, straightening his back to make himself seem that slightest bit taller. Not that it made much of a difference, what with Arthur sitting on the pier far above him. Merlin's head could barely reach the foot Arthur was kicking back and forth.

He found himself longing for Arthur to drop into the water right next to him, so that they could at least _pretend_ to be on somewhat equal footing.

 _Footing_. Hah. He really had been amongst humans for too long.

" _I_ —" Merlin began, but quickly cut himself off. He licked his lips once, then again for good measure, before clearing his throat and speaking again. “ _Did you mean it_?” he asked, shoulders rising up to his ears. “ _When you say ‘I love you’. Did you mean it?_ ”

“ _I— Yes! Of course I meant it. How could you ever think otherwise?!_ ” Arthur exclaimed, eyes finally rising to meet Merlin’s own. The sheer disbelief present in them, more than the words Arthur spoke, served to convince Merlin that he was telling the truth.

 _“All right_ ,” Merlin breathed shakily. “ _All right. Good._ ”

Merlin startled when the tips of Arthur’s fingers landed on his shoulder, caressing the wet skin. He hadn’t even noticed when Arthur had lain belly-down on the pier to be able to reach Merlin.

“ _Why would you think I didn’t_?” Arthur asked, visibly hurt.

“ _No, I. I thought… Not matter. I’m sorry_ ,” Merlin said. He moved Arthur’s hand from his shoulder to his cheek and turned his face into it, trying to hide the tears that had suddenly sprung up. “ _I’m sorry_.”

Arthur didn’t say anything for the longest time, but eventually he sighed and removed his hand from Merlin’s face. Before Merlin had time to grieve the loss, Arthur patted the space next to him in clear invitation.

Hesitantly, Merlin clambered up to sit down next to him. He was gratified when Arthur instantly pulled him in for a warm hug, uncaring of the water that seeped into his clothes.

“ _I want to make this work_ ,” Arthur said, turning his face into Merlin’s hair. Merlin had to fight not to shiver when Arthur’s warm breath tickled his ear. “ _I want us to work. I just… I don’t know how._ ”

Saying the words seemed to pain Arthur. Merlin couldn’t see the expression on his face, but there was no way it was happy.

“ _I… what?_ ” he asked, confused and more than a bit hurt.

“ _You and I, we… we’re two different species. You need water to live, and I need land and I. I cannot imagine how we could work all of that out. It isn’t as though you can stay in a tub, or we can find a house that connects with the sea, and I cannot spend the rest of my life in a rowboat just to stay close to you._ _I love you so much that it hurts sometimes, but I cannot figure out a way for us to be together._ ”

It was the first time Merlin had heard Arthur sob; the sound of it shattered his already fragile heart.

“ _But I love you_ ,” Merlin said, turning around in Arthur’s embrace so that he could look him in the eyes. “ _You can’t. Please. You do not mean that_.”

“ _I do not want to mean it_ ,” Arthur said, letting out a shaky breath and leaning his forehead against Merlin’s. “ _But it is the truth. I love you so much, but I cannot see a future where we are together_.”

The pain he’d felt yesterday was nothing compared to what was tearing his heart apart right now. Merlin broke free from Arthur’s embrace and scooted to the side, unable to stomach the thought of being touched by him again.

Arthur looked completely miserable, but he didn’t take back the words he’d uttered. Gutted, Merlin buried his face in his hands and gritted his teeth to keep the sobs at bay. He should have gone home when he’d had the chance and spared himself this heartbreak.

“ _Merlin, I_ …” Arthur reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, but Merlin tore himself away. Arthur didn’t try it again.

“ _Just. Say nothing. Be quiet_ ,” Merlin spat, winding his fingers through his hair and tugging on it hard enough to hurt, hoping that it would distract him from the ache in his chest. Hoping that it would bring him clarity, because there _had_ to be a solution there was _always_ a solution he just needed a second, just one second, to settle his emotions and _think_ , for the Kraken’s sake, he just needed a moment to—

" _I will take you back home, if you wish_ ," Arthur continued quietly. " _My father has agreed to sponsor the journey, and I would feel better knowing that you got back safely_."

 _"But I—_ " Merlin started to say, but quickly cut himself off. He couldn't exactly say that he didn't want to go home, could he? It would be a lie, and Arthur, despite all of Merlin's misgivings, deserved better than to be lied to.

Maybe... maybe he could take advantage of the long journey back. It would probably last, what? Two months? That was a lot of time—time he could spend trying to figure out the solution to their problem.

Seas. Why couldn't he have fallen in love with one of his own kind? Why had Merlin let Arthur burrow his way so deeply into his heart?

" _It is meant to be an excursion to import spices and fine cloths. It is a little soon after the last one, but you should not stay here for long. Sooner or later, someone will see you and I... I cannot lose you like this. I need you to be safe_."

When Merlin didn't reply, Arthur slowly staggered to his feet and stood over him.

" _We set sail in two days at dawn. Be there a few hours before then_ ," he said, voice rough with emotion. He threw one last, longing glance at Merlin, turned on his heel and left. As heartbreaking as it was, seeing Arthur walk away from him was a sight Merlin was slowly getting used to.

Gwaine welcomed him back with open arms and a grin on his face.

“ _Merlin_!” he exclaimed the second he caught sight of him in the water near the gangplank. “ _What are you doing here_?!”

“ _I came see Arthur_ ,” Merlin said, doing his utmost best to grin back at him. It fell short. “ _I sail with you for now_.”

Luckily for him, Gwaine took the words at face value and didn't bother asking any questions. Merlin supposed that he didn't have to. These days, misery stuck to him like a remora to a shark. If Gwaine wanted an answer to one of the dozens of questions undoubtedly swirling around in his head, all he had to do was take a good look at the expression on Merlin's face.

Merlin appreciated the heated glare Gwaine directed at Arthur when he thought Merlin wasn't looking. Obviously, he'd drawn his own conclusions. Arthur glared back at him, but the guilt was painted across his face, clear as day.

Together, Gwaine and Arthur smuggled Merlin aboard the ship long before the sun rose. In truth, Arthur did most of the smuggling; Gwaine was responsible for redirecting anyone who might be coming their way.

From what Merlin had been told as he was getting comfortable in his tub ( _Home sweet home_ , he thought sarcastically) the crew had changed. Arthur had dismissed most of the sailors that had accompanied him on his previous expedition. Some were languishing in prison, having had their part in organising the attempt on Arthur's life. There, no one would take stock in their tales of having seen a merman.

Many of the others, who had lost what little of Arthur's trust they'd had, had been let go with a full purse and a strong resolution to keep what they'd seen to themselves. Merlin sincerely doubted they would, but Arthur seemed convinced that money and the strong implication that any rumours would result in very unpleasant consequences would be enough to curb any talk.

The friends Merlin had made still worked for Arthur, thank the seas. No one besides Gwaine may have been aware of his presence, but just the knowledge that they were aboard the same ship made Merlin happy. Maybe he could convince Arthur to let him see them. It was going to be a long journey; there was only so much Merlin could do over the course of it considering he and Arthur weren't on the friendliest of terms anymore, and there was only so much time he could spend talking to Gwaine before his head began to hurt—though this would likely be more from the alcohol than the actual conversation.

Merlin sighed, sinking deep, _deep_ beneath the surface of the water in his tub. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable, _painful_ journey home.

The voyage was, for the most part, uneventful. Any conversations he had with Arthur were awkward and stilted, making Merlin wish he'd never had the idea to follow him back to England; at least he would have spared himself some pain.

Or he could have undertaken the journey back by himself. A month and a half he'd spent in this tub, and he wasn't any closer to coming up with a solution to his predicament than he had been before. Gwaine wasn't much help, either. All he did was make the appropriate empathetic noises, shake his head in dismay, and try to ply Merlin with more alcohol.

Merlin had sworn off it after one of their binges had ended with him expelling what felt like half his innards into a bucket Gwaine had brought in anticipation of this moment. He'd been nauseous for hours after and hadn't touched a drop of liquor since. Seas, his stomach felt like it was being sucked into a whirlpool every time Gwaine brought up the topic.

The first month was surprisingly peaceful. The seas were calm, which was a startling contrast to how they had been during the voyage to England. There were no matters that required Arthur's immediate attention, no repairs to be made—in short, there wasn't anything to worry about.

It was only once they neared the end of their journey, when they were approaching the waters Merlin had spent the majority of his life in, that things began to change. One second the sky was an amalgamation of blues and reds and oranges...

...the next, the ship was being thrown around by tempestuous waves, threatening to sink each time the water battered it. The wood creaked and groaned, the sailors screamed, trying to take control of the ship before they all drowned. Arthur's possessions, most of which hadn't been put away or bolted down—and why would they have been, when it had been nothing but smooth sailing thus far?—were flying around the room, banging into walls and furniture. More than once, Merlin had to duck his head or risk being on the receiving end of their ire.

Arthur had left the cabin the moment the first bolt of lightning had struck the water near the ship. Merlin had been told not to leave under any circumstances.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could obey Arthur's orders before he crawled out onto the deck to make sure he was safe. His anxiety was so great that he'd chewed his claws into jagged little things that barely stretched past the tips of his fingers. Fat lot of good they'd be for hunting now.

There weren't words to describe how terrified he was when something tore clean through the hull and into the cabin. Merlin scrambled up and sat down on the edge of the tub, pressed into the wall. He didn't have the time to register anything but the presence of thick, wet skin and enormous suckers before the tentacle withdrew from the cabin and back into the sea.

It took all of five seconds for Merlin to process what he'd seen and make the connection to a creature he'd been certain was nothing more than a tale to scare the young into obeying their elders.

" _Arthur_?!" Merlin shouted in a panic, lunging forward and throwing himself over the side of the tub. He hit his head on the floor, shook it once to clear it, then crawled forward, trying to get to the door as quickly as he could.

It opened before he could get close to it. Gwaine stood before him, drenched to the bone and paler than Merlin had ever seen him be.

" _We're under attack!_ " Gwaine shouted, his eyes wild. He jumped when he realised Merlin was on the floor beneath him instead of in his tub and almost tripped over his own feet jumping away.

"The Kraken," Merlin whispered, the words leaving him in a breathless rush.

Gwaine stared at him uncomprehendingly, completely silent amidst the cacophony of terrified screams coming from above. Merlin stared back, unmoving, until a sudden loud crash made him jump. From what little he could see through the hole in the hull, the mainmast had fallen. It was floating in pieces, as though something had wrapped around it and torn it apart in a horrifying display of brute strength.

Merlin startled when another tentacle emerged from the water, rising high, _high_ above them before crashing down on the ship, easily tearing through the wood. The ship lurched, _tilted inward_ , and Merlin went flying into Gwaine. They landed on the other side of the door in a sprawl of limbs that took far too long to untangle.

" _Get me to Arthur_ ," Merlin said, his grip tight on Gwaine's upper arms. " _I need to get to Arthur_!"

The words were said in a rush and so heavily accented that Merlin wasn't sure whether Gwaine understood what he was saying. He opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Gwaine snapped out of his stupor and quickly scrambled to his feet. He crashed against the wall when the ship lurched again, then picked Merlin up and started running as fast as his legs could carry him.

They'd barely made it to the end of the corridor when another tentacle pierced through the ship's exterior and rammed into the wall they'd just been up against, tearing through the wood like it was water. Bits of debris scattered around the corridor, hitting everything standing in their way. The tentacle retreated, taking a good part of the ship with it.

Gwaine faltered when he reached the stairs. He glanced back standing stock-still as he took in the damage.

" _Gwaine_ ," Merlin growled, elbowing him in the chest. " _Move_!"

With one last shaky exhale, Gwaine turned back around and ran up the stairs. It was a miracle that he didn't stumble and drop Merlin before they reached the top.

The deck was… The only word Merlin could think of to describe it was ‘chaotic’. Dark grey clouds were swirling overhead, pelting everything with rain. Thunder boomed and echoed, and lightning struck constantly. Merlin had never seen anything like it! This storm, it couldn’t be natural. It was _impossible_ for this to be natural.

The ship had been decimated: the remaining masts had met an end similar to the first, sails had been shredded and were either being whipped around by the vicious winds or thrown about by the waves, and the cannons were gone, having been swept into the water. Sailors were running around, screaming, struck with panic and terror. A few of the braver men—Merlin thought he could make out Percival through the torrents of rain—were attempting to cut through the tentacles that had wound their way around the entirety of the ship. Others were taking their chances with guns, shooting anything that was within their range.

The few lifeboats that had hung suspended from davits were gone, but the ropes hadn’t been torn through. Merlin could only assume that some of the crewmen had attempted to use them to escape. A small, distant part of him wondered how far they’d managed to get before being eaten alive by the creature or drowning beneath the roaring waves.

He’d barely had time to take in the scene before Arthur appeared before them, rapier in hand and blood dripping down his left arm.

“ _I thought I told you to make sure he was safe_!” he roared at Gwaine, scarcely sparing a glance at Merlin.

“ _Oi_!” Merlin protested, brow furrowing. He, out of all of them, was best equipped to survive this attack. On the off chance he was swept overboard, he could breathe underwater and swim away. Arthur had no such ability.

“ _Trust me when I say it’s safer up here than it is down there_ ,” Gwaine said with a scowl. “ _At least here, you can see them coming! We just barely escaped getting smashed into smithereens_!”

Arthur stared at them for a moment longer before throwing up his hands in frustration, narrowly missing slicing through Gwaine’s sleeve with his sword.

“ _Fine_ ,” he exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

Merlin reached up and caught Arthur’s wrist as it was on its way down.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said in Mermish. When Arthur pursed his lips but didn’t reply, Merlin tightened his grip. “ _Arthur_!”

“Yes, all right,” Arthur said with a scowl, finally meeting Merlin’s eyes. Almost instantly, the scowl disappeared and was replaced with a soft, upwards tilt of the lips. It wasn’t exactly a smile—not with the circumstances being as they were—but Merlin took what he could get.

Arthur let his gaze flit over Merlin’s face before moving to Gwaine’s. He closed his eyes briefly. Placing his hand on the one Merlin had wrapped around his wrist, he leant forward and planted his lips firmly upon Merlin’s.

Merlin was so shocked that he didn’t move to reciprocate. By the time he realised what was happening, Arthur had pulled away and was looking down at him with an odd expression on his face.

“If I do not survive,” he said, caressing his thumb over the back of Merlin’s hand. “I need you to know... I love you. I never stopped.”

Arthur stood in front of him, almost as if he was waiting for a reply. Anything Merlin may have wanted to say was interrupted when another tentacle smashed down onto the ship, this time cleaving it in half. People stumbled and fell as it lurched. Merlin couldn’t see it, but he could almost feel the water rushing into the hold, sinking the ship deeper and deeper into the water. As it slanted inwards, sailors tried in a frenzy to find something they could hold on to, _anything_ they could hold on to so that they wouldn’t end up in the sea.

Gwaine lost his hold on Merlin and the both of them went tumbling to the floor. Luckily, they were standing at the top of the stairs, and it wasn’t hard to find something to latch themselves on to.

Arthur, however, had no such luck.

“ _Arthur!_ ” Merlin cried out in terror when he saw Arthur fall and start sliding down the deck, coming closer to the broken edge with each passing second. Only at the last moment did he manage to sink his sword into the wooden boards and catch himself before he went over. He smiled at Merlin, raised a hand to show that he was all right—

—and then a tentacle rose out of the water behind him. Before Merlin could so much as shout out a warning, it had wrapped around Arthur’s waist and lifted him high up into the air. Arthur’s rapier fell out of his hand and clattered to the deck, before sliding off the ship.

The Kraken waved its tentacle once to the left, then to the right, before pulling it back into the water and taking Arthur with it.

Merlin didn’t care about his own safety anymore. With one last look at Gwaine, he let go of the railing he’d been holding on to and let himself fall. He barely heard Gwaine shouting at him.

The water was cold; much colder than he was used to. Merlin took a few seconds to reorientate himself now that he was submerged in it. Once the bubbles of air that had come down with him floated back up to the surface and he could see what was going on, he found himself face-to-face with the Kraken.

Or, more precisely, face-to-eye.

The Kraken looked at him, but it didn’t move to attack him the way it had the humans aboard the ship. Instead, once it realised he was in the water right next to it, it relinquished its hold on the ship above them and sank its tentacles back into the sea.

 _Safe now_.

Merlin jerked back in shock at the words, half-certain he’d imagined them, half-convinced they’d come from the creature before him. The Kraken’s gaze moved to the side and past him, before it turned away and propelled itself into the deep. Merlin kept still and let it go.

The storm left with it. There was no more lightning, no more thunder. The rain had stopped as well.

Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

Merlin kept the grief at bay for the time it took him to safely fish everyone out of the wreck and point them in the direction of the nearby island. Those who were too hurt to swim by themselves or didn't know how to swim at all, he helped. No one seemed particularly surprised by his existence; after the events of the past hours, they were in no state to be shocked by much of anything anymore.

There were bodies floating everywhere, listless. Lifeless. Merlin forced himself to approach each and every one of them and make sure they weren't his humans. To make sure they weren't _Arthur_.

The crew had been reduced by half, and of those that lived, another half were too injured to be of use to anyone. Some of them were unlikely to survive for long.

Gwaine was fine, thank the seas; he'd been the first human Merlin had searched for after he'd realised Arthur was...

Well.

Percival was wounded—a piece of debris had clipped his thigh and left him walking with a limp. Elyan was fine, though he’d been on the verge of freezing to death by the time Merlin found him. Leon had suffered a hit to the head that had made him a bit unsteady and had the world whirling in front of his eyes. Gaius—who, granted, Merlin wasn't on the friendliest of terms with—had managed to latch on to a stray piece of driftwood and paddle away from the wreckage. He’d drifted for a while before Merlin had finally found him.

Everyone he’d found alive was safe and accounted for; all that remained were the bodies. And once those were all brought ashore to be buried with the proper rites, all that was left was diving into the sea to search for Arthur's corpse.

The ocean was calm now; the waves barely existent. Whatever remained of the ship had gone under, thankfully long after everyone alive had been evacuated from the area. If Arthur—if Arthur's _body_ , Merlin thought with a pang—was in the sea, it shouldn’t have drifted far. Merlin should be able to find it without much of an issue.

Except.

He couldn't. He'd scoured the area of the wreckage, searched the surface of the water, combed through the seabed beneath it, and he'd come up with nothing. Not a _single thing_. There was no sign of Arthur anywhere, not a trace of his scent nor his blood. It was as though he'd been wiped clean from existence.

Or—as much as the thought hurt—it was as though if the creature that had attacked them had eaten him whole, not leaving behind the slightest indication that Arthur had ever been there in the first place. Not even leaving behind a body for Merlin to grieve.

Gwaine had figured out what happened without Merlin having to tell him; one look at Merlin's face after he'd first come up for air had been enough for him to draw his own conclusions. Leon, as Arthur's first mate and best friend, had held on to hope the longest, but it had dimmed every time he'd seen Merlin return with someone who wasn't his captain.

Merlin could barely force the words from his throat when the time came to tell the crew of Arthur's disappearance. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tell them about how he'd seen the Kraken grab hold of Arthur and pull him down into the deep. Selfishly, he left that part to Gwaine as he fought to get his emotions under control.

He couldn't bear to raise his head up and look at them when Gwaine told his side of the story. Instead, he sat down on a rocky outcrop a few metres away, tail half-submerged in the sea and allowed himself a moment to wallow in his grief. Only a moment, though. The island they'd ended up on was tiny, consisting of little more than the beach he'd deposited the humans on. They wouldn't be able to survive for long without food or fresh water. The first, Merlin could supply without much of an effort. The second? Not so much. It wasn't as though there was any fresh water to be found at sea.

He would need to find help, somehow, or risk letting them die. If not for the fact that his friends were amongst the survivors, he probably wouldn't bother to try to help them; it's not as though most humans had done right by him. He would likely have left them to their inevitable demise.

He'd already lost Arthur. He didn't want to lose Gwaine as well.

" _That's a merman_ ," someone said behind him, their voice nothing more than a whisper. Merlin tensed, but didn't bother turning around to see the commotion his presence was causing. It seemed the sailors were slowly breaking out of their stupor. Merlin listened carefully for the sound of approaching footsteps; if anyone tried anything, he would hear them and be back in the water at a moment's notice.

He'd be back, of course, but not until they'd all calmed down.

" _Well spotted_ ," Leon said drily. " _Your observational skills are truly phenomenal_."

The words made everyone quiet down, but the silence didn't last more than a few seconds. Hushed murmurings were quick to start up again; the sound of them had Merlin's shoulders riding up to his ears.

He didn't dare to tear his gaze away from the wide expanse of ocean before him. Leon was the first mate. Merlin had no wish to explain his presence or general existence to the crew.

He didn't know how long he sat there, unmoving, staring at the setting sun. He didn't even react when someone walked up behind him, having recognised the footsteps as belonging to Gwaine.

" _He really is gone, isn't he_ ," Gwaine said dolefully, placing a calloused hand on Merlin's bare shoulder. Merlin had to fight not to flinch away at the contact.

" _There is no sign of him_ ," he told Gwaine, voice cracking. " _He's just... he's gone_."

He hastily wiped away the tears that had begun to make their way down his cheeks, but it was too late—Gwaine had already seen them.

With a sad, quiet sigh, Gwaine sat down next to him, uncaring of the water seeping into his recently dried clothes. Merlin didn't resist when Gwaine wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. He leant into Gwaine with a sob, unable to keep his grief to himself any longer.

" _I don't know what I will do without him_ ," Merlin confessed, voice awkward and high-pitched. He grabbed onto Gwaine's sleeve and held on tight.

Gwaine was quiet for a moment

" _What were you planning to do before? When the idea had been to get you back home, to leave you there_?" he eventually asked, rubbing Merlin's shoulder.

" _I..._ " Merlin trailed off. " _I do not know. I wanted to find a way to stay, or for Arthur"_ —Merlin's voice broke— _"to come with me_. _I did not let myself wonder what life would be like without him."_

When Gwaine didn't say anything, Merlin leant his elbows against his tail and put his head in his hands.

" _I should have_ ," he added in a quiet whisper. " _I should have_."

Gwaine gave Merlin's arm one last squeeze before getting up and brushing off his trousers.

" _Get some rest, Merlin_." He ruffled Merlin’s hair. "You’ll feel better tomorrow once you’ve had some sleep."

At first, Merlin couldn't put his finger on what had awoken him. The water around him hadn't changed—before him was still the same expanse of white sand and dark blue sea. Most of the fish were keeping well away from him, recognising a predator when they saw one.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. He'd only slept a few hours, and he still felt the exhaustion that had settled over him like one of those heavy blankets Arthur favoured.

 _Had_ favoured.

It wasn't until something nudged his shoulder that Merlin swirled around, claws out in front of him and fangs exposed, ready to fight off whatever creature had dared to interrupt his rest.

He saw Arthur.

Immediately, his hands fell back to his sides, limp. He must have been dreaming, because there was no other explanation for how Arthur had ended up in front of him, looking like he'd never been in a fight to begin with.

Except... it wasn't the Arthur he remembered. _His_ Arthur, the one he'd lost to the Kraken, had been human. The Arthur standing before him had a long, red-gold tail, fins on his arms and _gills_.

Merlin stared at him, mouth wide open.

"Am I dreaming?" he muttered, raising one hand and moving it towards Arthur. He didn't touch him, unwilling to see the illusion fall apart.

When Arthur's hand reached up and enveloped his own in a warm grip, Merlin suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

"You are not dreaming, Merlin," Arthur said, looking at him with a soft grin.

With one last, broken sob, Merlin threw himself at Arthur. Arthur opened his arms, thinking Merlin was going for an embrace, but instead he found himself on the receiving end of Merlin's ire.

"You bastard!" Merlin cried out, hitting Arthur's chest with his fists. "You complete and utter bastard!"

To his credit, Arthur didn't try to stop Merlin from hitting him. He floated before him stoically, letting Merlin tire himself out before he finally enveloped him in a hug that had no right being this warm. Arthur trapped Merlin's arms in between their chests and pulled until Merlin was pressed into his chest.

There would have been tears, had they been above the surface. Here, underwater, any tears Merlin might have had were brushed away by the ocean.

"You're alive," Merlin breathed, hiding his face in the crook of Arthur's neck. "Seas, you're alive."

When Arthur nodded, the relief Merlin felt since he first realised he could _touch_ Arthur became overwhelming. One of Arthur's hands left Merlin's back and landed on the back of his head, where his fingers quickly got tangled up in Merlin's curls.

"I'm alive," Arthur confirmed. Once he was sure that Merlin wasn't going to do anything, he leant back and allowed Merlin to wiggle his arms out from between them. Having freed them, Merlin wrapped them around Arthur's own waist in turn, letting his fingers glide over the smooth expanse of Arthur's new tail.

"How?" he asked, looking up at Arthur and meeting his gaze.

"I'm not sure," Arthur confessed. "One second, the Kraken is pulling me into the ocean and all I can think about is how glad I am that you are safe. I close my eyes, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up underwater, all alone. I... I don't know how it happened."

Merlin pulled him closer, pressing his chest against Arthur's so firmly that there was no room left between them.

"I thought it killed you," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

Arthur carded his fingers through Merlin's hair, pushing it away from his face.

"We need to tell your crew!" Merlin exclaimed. "They all think you're dead. I couldn't find your body _anywhere_ , so I—" he breaks off and grits his teeth.

"They are alive?" Arthur asks, eyes wide. "I thought... I did not think anyone managed to survive the attack or the storm."

"At least half of them are," Merlin confirmed with a small smile. "No one else turned into a merman, though."

"Half is better than none," Arthur said with a grim smile of his own, nudging his nose against Merlin's. "Do you want to tell them or should I?"

"I think you should do the honours." Merlin breathed against Arthur's lips.

The kiss that followed was one neither of them would soon forget.

No one paid much attention to Merlin when he popped his head out of the water. The crew had gotten used to the idea of merfolk existing rather quickly and barely bothered to spare him a glance.

They didn't notice Arthur popping out of the water behind him. It wasn't until they swam a bit closer to the shore that Leon looked at them properly. He squinted, blinked a few times, and then finally, his jaw fell open in shock. He elbowed Gwaine, who was standing next to him. When Gwaine didn't instantly turn around and look, Leon whispered something Merlin couldn't make out. It did, however, have the desired effect. The second Leon finished speaking, Gwaine whirled around and looked right at them.

It was the first time Merlin had seen Gwaine at a loss for words.

The silence lasted for all of five seconds before he burst into hysterical laughter and clapped Leon on the back with so much force that he tottered forward.

" _The Captain's alive_!" Gwaine exclaimed, waving his hands above his head. " _He's alive_!"

Immediately, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned around. Arthur swam ahead of him and raised a hand in greeting, eyes flitting over the crows to see who had been lost in the attack. His smile was forced, but Merlin was fairly certain that he was the only one who was able to tell.

The second shock came when Arthur swam close enough for his crew to realise that he was no longer entirely... _human_.

" _Well_ ," Gwaine said looking between Merlin and Arthur with a wide grin on his face, " _Looks like you'll be getting your happy ending after all, Captain_."

Merlin beamed up at him.

In the end, it wasn't so hard to get the remaining humans to safety. They had managed to haul in a pile of driftwood and dry it overnight; now they set it aflame in an attempt to signal any nearby ships.

A merchant vessel had shown up only a few hours later and agreed to transport the sailors to the nearest harbour, having been promised to be compensated for their efforts. Merlin wasn't entirely sure how they'd go about _getting_ that compensation, considering everything they’d had been left to rot at the bottom of the sea, but he assumed the humans would be able to settle it between themselves.

With Arthur... _out of commission_ , for lack of a better phrase, it was up to Leon, as his first mate, to see the crew home safely. Luckily, everyone easily deferred to his authority once it became clear that Arthur wouldn't be sailing back with them. The mere thought left Merlin feeling giddy and Arthur a bit sad.

" _I suppose it isn't as though there is much waiting for me at home_ ," he said with a self-deprecating smile. " _Leon, make sure the men are paid for their discretion; there is money in the safe at my estate._ "

" _And your father, Captain_?" Leon asked. " _What should I tell your father_?"

"... _Tell him the truth_ ," Arthur replied after a long silence. " _Let him know where I am and that I am safe, but... he should not come looking for me. He will understand_."

With a sharp nod, Leon saluted Arthur, then turned on his heel and boarded the longboat that was waiting for him.

Merlin gripped Arthur's hand in his own and together, they watched what was left of Arthur’s crew sail away.

Merlin's return home went somewhat like Arthur's return to the land of the living. No one could believe their eyes when he swam down into their little atoll. His mother was the first to break away from the crowd of gaping merfolk; Merlin opened his arms to catch her as she swam up to him.

"Oh, Merlin," she murmured, putting her hands on either side of his face.

"Mum," Merlin said, his voice cracking. He hugged her tightly and let himself become enveloped by her familiar scent. Behind her, Freya and Will slowly swam closer, both staring at him with their eyes wide open.

"When you didn't come home, I thought you were dead," his mum said, returning his embrace. "I thought I would never see you again."

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Arthur shrink in on himself, the expression on his face speaking of a bone-deep shame.

"For the longest time, I didn't think I would see you either," Merlin told her, kissing her forehead before letting her go. He turned around and gestured towards Arthur, who hesitated, but swam up to him. "This is Arthur."

"Madam," Arthur said, quietly. Merlin wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer.

"Just Hunith, please," Merlin's mum replied, looking between the two of them with a smile that grew larger with each passing second. "I assume I have you to thank for bringing Merlin home?"

"I—" Arthur said, glancing at Merlin for help.

"Arthur brought me home," Merlin confirmed. He waved Will and Freya over; they were almost vibrating with the effort of holding themselves back trying not to interrupt his reunion with his mum. Hunith looked at them, then back at Merlin and Arthur and laughed quietly.

"Let's all go inside, and you can tell me all about what happened while you were gone," she said, ushering Merlin towards the cave she'd made her home in. Merlin caught Arthur's hand in his own and pulled him along.

"I'll tell you," Merlin promised, grinning widely. "But I'm not sure how much of it you'll believe."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, come find me on [tumblr](https://lair-of-the-dragon.tumblr.com/)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [into the sunset](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412658) by [SwanFloatieKnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwanFloatieKnight/pseuds/SwanFloatieKnight)




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